The Betrayal of Innocence
by MoonpoetessZ
Summary: AU The beginning of what would be Harry's 7th year if he hadn't have disappeared the second day of his fifth term. What occurs when he returns, a warrior with knowledge of a side realm? Eventual Slash SSHP. Mentions Rape and Suicide. On hiatus.
1. Postliminium

Warning- This was begun before HP6 came out. Though AU, there are constant spoilers through HP5, (if somewhat manipulated to suit my plot), and starting after chapter 21, some will show up from HP6.

Disclaimer- I own naught but the original plot, characters, locals, and spells. Known elements belong to JKR, etc. I mean no infringement on copyrights thereof.

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Chapter One- Return 

The noon day sun had slipped over the archaic castle in the middle of an unplottable expanse of land. The tops of the battlements were bathed in light, while the covered areas grew dark with shadow. The shadows bothered not the adolescent residents of the mystical fortress, as they went about their day, deliberately, if unconsciously, sidestepping them. There were those that sought that darkness, that day, but those where few and easily unseen. Why bother with those that knew that the darkness was spreading, that knew that innocence was fleeting, when the day itself was so innocuous. Even the sun knew not to seek those ones out, and so, made their efforts of remaining darkened that much easier.

Two of those such souls were in their obscured place, together, but lost in thoughts both so different, and yet, so similar, that they did not speak. Each saw the threat that lurked just beyond the horizon. The danger that risked not only their lives, but their whole way of life. They knew that it was just the calm before the metaphorical storm that was looming ever closer. As it had been doing for over a year. A year of deaths, destruction, torment, but not yet unimaginable chaos. That would reign quickly enough. Neither knew when, but knew it would.

The two melancholy students rose their eyes to another that slipped into their swarthy shadow.

"Hey, guys," whispered the quiet voice of the slightly younger girl.

"Hi." The male of the group answered in an abnormally subdued voice. At least, abnormally based on the times beyond that last year.

The brunette girl glanced at the others, nodded her hello to the new-comer, and abruptly sat on the darkened window ledge they were against.

"Two years." She spoke, finally, though it was little more louder than the whispers of the others. "It's been exactly two years since we saw ... him." She hesitated at the name of the missing person that should have been with them.

"Why?" The tall, red-headed boy questioned, looking at the swarms of their unnoticing peers, enjoying the peace of the day. Enjoying the break from classes, work, and worry, even if it was only the second day of classes.

"Why, what?" His sister asked, not bothering to glance at the boy.

"Why, everything. Nothing. Both. I don't know."

Neither girl tried to answer. They didn't speak again, just stood with one another until the present reality broke in with the signal for afternoon classes. They then moved off with nary a nod, but each felt the others' comforts.

The next couple weeks continued in that pattern for that trio- they would go to class, eat breakfast and dinner with the rest of the student body, do homework, and the like. But every lunch, they would gather in their little hideaway of shadow and just hang out with each other. Sometimes, they would speak about both serious and inane things, other times they would study their books, and still other times, they would just sit in silence, being there together. Each of them were heavily involved in the war that was coming, each had both people they cared for on the 'front lines', so to speak, and had their own lives resting on it. Not an easy place to be for three teenagers that had already lost so much.

As that group woke in their tower at dawn one day, in another part of the castle an aged wizard walked down the stairs from his living quarters to his office. As the head of the school, he had a duty to be up and ready before the better part of the castle's population made their way through the start of their day. That didn't mean that it was easier for that man to get up, as was shown by the slow movement of the wizened body and in his grasping of the teacup filled with hot tea that he hoped would help him clear his head for the day.

Sparing a glance to the sleeping red and gold phoenix that perched near a window, Albus Dumbledore smiled softly. Though times were bleak and dangerous, with him at the front of the danger, he knew that some things were good enough to make everything easier. The mystical bird was a symbol of that, as much as his faithful companion. He gazed out the window to the dawn as he thought of that.

Then he made to move to his desk, as he noticed that the room was distinctly quiet. The portraits made not a move, frozen as Muggle photos, and Albus's many objects of interest were not making their strange dancing motions on the tables of the office. He shifted the teacup into his left hand with a barely noticeable action, and readied to reach his wand if needed. Suddenly, Albus became aware of another's presence in the room. Though he didn't detect danger associated with it, he nonetheless was unnerved by the other's ability to mask detection by the headmaster's well honed senses. He retrieved his wand and pivoted towards the person that moved out into the light. The darkness seemed not to wish him leave, and clung to his cloak as he raised a hooded face to the headmaster. The man seemed to move with the shadows as the dawn's light in the office fought to reveal him. With a movement nearly unperceivable in its swiftness, the man raised his hand to his hood, and revealed his face.

"Hello, Headmaster."

The teacup dropped to the floor as Albus's eyes widened at the youth before him. Not caring, he left his wand fixed at the intruder's heart, as he looked at the man. His eyes looked the figure up and down, unbelieving. Before him stood a man of average height, but nothing else of him was typical. Ebony hair hung just brushing wide shoulders, framing a tan, sculptured face. Muscles were clearly defined through the half-opened vest the color of the darkest mother of pearl lined in gold and the tight blackish brown leather pants. Boots that reached to mid-calf sported gold tone metal across the front and on one, a dagger was displayed sheathed on the side. The man's upper arms were bare, but for a gold tattoo band around the middle of both. The forearms were encased by gauntlets the same black leather and gold metal of the boots. Another dagger was sheathed at the warrior's, (as the uniform would dictate no other profession), waist. Hung on the other side of the knife, was a very familiar wand.

Pulling his gaze from the impressive attire, Albus's eyes were drawn to the tattoo on the young man's face. A phoenix of gold with spread wings stood out clearly on his cheek. Albus had barely registered this before his sight was sharply pulled to the eyes of the man. Emerald green sparkled with gold pierced through the headmaster. Albus didn't need to notice the scar clearly shown above the man's eye to know who this was. His essence screamed it, even if it was beyond the aura he had ever before exposed.

"Harry..."

The young man looked upon the man he had last seen two years ago. His mentor, headmaster, friend. The corners of his lips turned upwards slightly in a small smile. Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts.


	2. Explanationis

Chapter Two- Explanations

Harry Potter had returned to Hogwarts.

"It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." Spoke the soft, slightly husky voice of Harry. "You told me that upon our first meeting. About that mirror, I believe. One of my first adventures." Harry gazed at Dumbledore, a twinkle reminiscent of the headmaster's in his eye.

As Harry's words registered in Albus's mind, he slowly lowered his wand. That sentence had proved the young man's identity, as he knew it would. None else would know that quote and the circumstances surrounding it. But it was seemingly impossible to perceive that image of a young, thin child Albus had observed so many years ago before the mirror, with the young man before him. Oh, the features were similar, as any seem from child to adult, but the eyes no longer spoke of innocence. No, the green eyes now held experience, pain, truth, and dignity hard earned.

Albus had not been so shaken in a great number of years. Regaining his composure, he finally responded.

"Harry. By Merlin, I can barely believe it. All thought you must have been killed."

"I know." Harry said, taking a step towards the headmaster. Albus closed the distance and embraced him.

"I'm sorry," Harry continued, as Dumbledore stepped back to look at him.

"You've changed so." The headmaster said quietly, holding him at arm's length. "What happened? Where have you been?"

Harry glanced down with a brief smile and then turned his sight back on Dumbledore. "That's a long and... interesting story, Professor."

"Well then," Albus said cheerily, "I suppose we should sit down and make our selves comfortable, my boy." His eyes shown with caring and curiosity behind his bright glimmer.

With a gentle nod, Harry moved to the chairs before the headmaster's desk. Albus walked around it, waving his wand to vanish the spilt tea and cup on the floor as he passed it. He sat in his overstuffed chair and conjured a tea set. Pouring two cups, he handed one to Harry. Harry took it with a slightly raised eyebrow at the pattern of sparkling shooting stars darting across the china. Apparently the headmaster's taste was as ostentatious as ever.

"Sherbert lemon?"

Harry declined with a chuckle. Then gazing at the headmaster, he raised both his eyebrows inquiringly. Nodding at the unspoken question to begin, Albus sat back to listen.

"Two years ago, as I'm sure you recall, I was... well, for lack of a before term, kidnaped by Voldemort. I was taken to a place were I was held for, what I later determined, about a week. I do not recall... what actually happened there. Not more than images. But I do remember nearly being killed that last day." As he spoke, Harry's gaze turned inward and his sight unfocused. "As my power was threatened, I was able to... tap into it. I threw out a burst of magic- it hit the various people around me, Tom being one, and struck the building. As it returned to me, it... overloaded, so to speak, and in an attempt to find purchase, it caused a rip in... well, the realm. I dimly recall landing in a clearing, a field, before it went black. I awoke in a room, with a person that didn't really appear human, and was told that I was in a... side realm." Refocusing on the headmaster, Harry watched his reaction.

Albus, for his part, was avidly listening. As Harry spoke, he noticed the young man seemingly go over his memories. He also noticed, in the back of his mind meant to look for details while he focused on other things, that Harry's posture was straight, his bearing ready. Also, Albus registered a slight, nearly undistinguishable, accent colouring his words. It wasn't from a British local, not like the one the boy had grown up with. It seemed that where ever he had been, he must have spoken some other language.

When Harry broke off, Albus blinked. _A side realm?_ Of course, the headmaster knew of them, but that Harry had actually managed to transport to one? That stunned the unflappable elder wizard. Realm transporting took a most amazing amount of power and the ability to channel it for that purpose. Very, very few humans ever accomplished the feat. Most that did, never returned. The whole thing was left for magical non-humans to do. Vampyrs and the like. Albus didn't disbelieve Harry, it just seemed so unbelievable.

"A side realm?" Some of his incredulity must have sounded in his voice, for Harry nodded with a patient smile.

Harry stood, moved to the desk, and leant down. With a graceful motion, he swept his hair from the side of his neck and revealed a mark. Two crescent moons turned inwards. A dimension transport symbol. Any being with the ability that has jumped realms, shows one. The magic creates the mark and that can be seen within it. Without a doubt, Harry had jumped realms. As Harry returned to his seat, he went on.

"As I am sure you know, the world consists of dimensions running alongside each other. A balance is held between them, all co-exist harmoniously. All are inter-connected. Magic runs through and around them. Beings in each are found in the others. Some can jump from realm to realm. It is rare, but possible. As you can see, as I am here." Harry smiled slightly, as did Albus. "Mostly, the ones that can are not human, as the power to transport can quite drain the one doing it. A lot of humans can not handle it, or can do so only once. Hence, we don't. I barely managed the first time I 'jumped', however unintentionally I did so. As for my return now, well... let's just say, I've learned a few things.

"Well, the one that I woke up to, he explained all of that to me. I had been there for about a week, healing and unconscious. As it turned out, he was not, in fact, human. He was a Warrior-Elf. I hadn't even known those existed. When I told him that I had only known of House-Elves, he told me that in our realm, Warrior-Elves are rather secretive. Relatively unheard of. It was definitely a shock." Albus chuckled as Harry revealed that. Harry just smiled and went on. "After that, he explained that I was at a warrior academy where he was a teacher, and being who I was, he said that I might study there. I would need training just to attempt to return back here, and after thought, I agreed. From then on, I studied at the Academy and, upon completion, a few weeks ago, I took the Exam. It was... different from anything here, that's certain. The magic I used to accomplish the test and, in turn, pass it, gave me this mark. An Aura symbol." Harry gestured to the tattoo adorning his cheek.

Albus nodded, "I thought that may have been. I've only seen very few in my day, and only a smaller amount of those were on humans. It is a great honour. Difficult to achieve, I'd wager." At Harry's wry affirmation, Dumbledore smiled.

"After that," Harry resumed, "I decided to return. To return home." His tone was final, Albus realized he wouldn't tell more about his time gone. The headmaster knew better than to push. And something told him that Harry would not respond to his normal manipulations.

"Merlin, I... well, I don't know what to say, Harry." Albus spoke finally.

"Yes, well, I knew my arrival would be startling. It seems an age I've been gone." Answered Harry, sipping some of his now cold tea. Glancing at it, and with a mouthed spell, he heated it. Albus saw this, but didn't comment. He discerned that Harry must have learned some wandless magic during his mysterious training. Dumbledore decided to find out more about it somehow.

Harry noticed the slightly determined air about the headmaster and knew what it meant. The man wanted to know more than Harry was willing to tell. He smirked lightly to himself. Dumbledore would learn when Harry was willing to explain, no sooner. The headmaster wasn't the only strong willed individual among them, not any longer. Nor was he the only one manipulative. Harry decided to see exactly how the man would explain the next thing he said.

"There was another reason I returned, Professor." At the headmaster's raised eyebrows, Harry continued. "I had a duty. A destiny, here. I believe you know it. 'Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives'."

Albus blinked, the only telltale sign of his shock. "You know of the Prophecy, Harry?"

"Yes, it seems that certain spells, which have been lost in this realm for centuries, can reveal prophecies regarding the castor. I have to admit, I was surprised to find out there was one surrounding me. And that it had been told to you."

"Harry, I... yes, I was the one to have heard it." Albus's voice was slightly uncertain. Harry remained impassive and heard him out. "It was before you were born, you see, and I did not know then, who it was speaking of. When you were born, it could have been you or another. It was not until Voldemort attacked you and gave you that scar, that I realized it was most assuredly you."

"'And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal'."

"Yes." Albus glanced down at his desk, then back at Harry. "As to my not telling you... I found I could not. I felt you would be, if not better off, at least happier not knowing. I thought you too young, and I made the decision worrying more for your feelings than for your knowledge."

Harry met Dumbledore's gaze evenly. When he spoke, it was honest and accepting.

"I understand, Professor. While I wish that I had known, been able to understand everything, I do see why you did as you did. I was... innocent."

Not noticing Harry's hesitation, Albus continued, "Still, I see now that I should have. Indeed, I saw when you disappeared. And for not telling you, I am sorry, my boy. Truly."

Harry smiled, though it was twinged with a sadness. "I accept, Professor. We all have secrets, for many reasons."

Albus locked eyes with Harry. The young man's revealed only a hint of much darkness, showed echos of what he had faced. With a subtle effort, Harry hid the negative emotions, but did not look away. When he felt the headmaster mentally probing to find them and their causes, he smiled wryly. Then, above his unbreakable barriers, he projected the thought, _You won't find it_.

Albus smiled apologetically and ceased his legilimency. Glancing out the window to the now mid-morning sun, Albus sat in thought. Harry finished his tea and waited, completely patient. Abruptly, Dumbledore turned to him.

"Will you return to school, Harry? Do you wish to?"

Harry answered, utterly calmly, "It would be my pleasure."


	3. Excogitationis

Chapter Three- Contriving

"It would be my pleasure."

"Wonderful!" Albus said, smiling. "I daresay this year will prove most interesting."

Harry chuckled and shook his head slightly in exasperation. "Every year has proven its interest, Professor."

"That it has, my boy, that it has. For you especially, it seems." Albus twinkled at the young wizard. "As for now, I am not certain what you have learned at your Academy," A slightly inquiring stare at that, then, "so I do not know what precisely to do with where to place you back in classes."

"Well, sir, I am fairly certain that I am easily at the level of my age, that I can accomplish what most seventeen year old wizards can." Harry's smile had a small hint of laughter in it.

"Somehow I'll bet that you are understating your abilities." Albus gazed at Harry, who's smile only widened, fractionally.

"We'll see, Professor. As for now," Harry raised an eyebrow, "how about testing me to see if I'll fit into class?"

Albus thought for a moment and then, "That could work. There is a matter of classwork and tests for the last two years, though."

Harry nodded and reached into a leather pouch on his waist, next to the dagger. Pulling out a small scroll, he then clasped the pouch closed once more. Not sparing much of a glance at the rolled parchment, seemingly he knew well the contents, he handed it over the desk to Dumbledore.

"It is my certification from the Academy. It tells some of what I studied, and that I passed very well."

"I figured you passed highly, if that mark is any indication." Dumbledore answered slightly offhanded, as he opened the parchment.

Albus unrolled the crisp document and gazed at it. The first thing he noticed was the language. Latin. Remembering it was fairly easy, the old wizard had been fluent in it, he just hadn't used it for a number of years. '_Well, its just like, what's that Muggle saying, riding a tike. Or bike. Oh, well.'_ Redirecting his wayward thoughts back to the parchment in his hand, Albus raised it to a beam of light streaking through his office and read. _Transfiguring, Alchemy, Magical Theory, Study of Species, Incanting._ Those seemed mirror images of lessons at Hogwarts, even if Albus could only guess at the main content. But there were others that weren't offered at the distinguished wizarding school, and those only stoked the headmaster's interest in learning about Harry's training. _Martial Arts, Artifice, Conditioning, Casting, Rites, Curatives._ All marks of which showed Harry was not exaggerating in saying he passed well.

Dumbledore raised his eyes over his half-moon spectacles and gazed at the Boy Who Lived- and Had Now Returned.

"I believe that can attest to my studies while I have been away. The only thing is, only you should know of it, of all of what I told you. I would... rather keep my training, and my... travels, quiet."

Dumbledore didn't seem surprised, in fact he agreed right off. Harry thought that the man must have already determined it himself.

"Yes," Albus said, "that would be... prudent. Allow you to 'slip' in, so to speak. While there will be much fanfare, I suspect..." Harry's lips turned to a mild sneer before settling into a sardonic smile. "Yes, well my boy, we can't help that. You are the Boy Who Lived, you know."

"Unfortunately, even two years away did nothing to absolve me of that particular memory." Harry's soft words and quirk of the lips caused Albus to snort in laughter. As he quieted, he topped off both of their teacups with fresh tea. The shooting stars renewed their two-dimensional flights with rejuvenated vigor on the china.

"At any rate, the hype will be much lessened were the facts of your disappearance not made public. Any sooner than necessary, anyway." Albus continued. "And of course, the more surprises you can spring on a certain 'Dark Lord', well, those will only help you."

Harry grinned, the glinting in his eyes telling Albus that the surprises would be plenty and most certainly in the light side's favour. The headmaster's lips curled upwards. He definitely was anticipating finding them out. Harry seemed to realize this, but it only made his look of challenge more pronounced.

"Well. As we are agreed, we now must think of what we can use to explain your absence."

"I have thought a bit on this, Professor," Harry stated. He went on as Dumbledore looking inquiring, "Now, we can't say you knew of it, of course. And we need to leave it fairly close to the truth. One thing I have learned, the best deceits are grounded in fact. So, to that end, I figure we determine a group, a private association that retrieved me from where Tom had me. Something that maybe couldn't be verified, be couldn't be discredited either. They, in interest of helping, saw to my healing and than to my studies for these past years. And in the interest of safety for all, felt that no contact was best."

"Well, it seems you have given this a 'bit' of thought." Dumbledore's amused tone eased the seemingly patronizing words. Turning more serious, he continued, "In fact, it sounds pretty good. Leaves it open to include any discrepancies that may be found. Excellent for where you went. But what do you suggest about the destruction of the manor?"

"Destruction of the manor? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

Albus looked at him. "The manor you were kept in by Voldemort. We found out through a couple sources that you were at the one he used for those he captured, we just weren't able to determine where that was. Not until the Ministry was alerted of a major disturbance of magic in a previously unplottable area. The magic destroyed and manipulated the spells hiding it. We were able then to go to the location. The location of the manor."

"Alright, yes, my magic must have hit the wards, letting you get there. I must have already been transported then, when the Ministry arrived. But what were you talking about before?"

"Your magic completely demolished the manor. When the Ministry and myself, along with a few others I trust, arrived, the building was in ruins, you and Voldemort were gone, and a few deatheaters were laying about for easy capture."

"Really? Ha, I hadn't realized that happened. I was a little preoccupied, I suppose." Harry rolled his shoulders gracefully. "Well, I don't suppose we can say that our little 'group' did it, could we? No." Dumbledore shook his head in agreement.

"I suppose the best thing would be to say that a mixture of magic from you, Voldemort, and whatever else, caused it."

"And then no one will be able to determine that isn't the entire truth. It should last till things come out." Harry nodded, clearly thinking through different situations. Albus was doing the same thing.

"All we need is to plan this 'group', and set up a trail should someone look," Albus mused to himself.

Both lapsed once more into silence, then Albus seized a quill and some parchment. He quickly composed a letter of some kind and then sealed it closed. He rose and moved to Fawkes, who by that time had been awake and gazing benignly at them. The Phoenix took off with the letter in a burst of flame and Albus turned back toward Harry.

Finding Harry's calm sight on him, Dumbledore said, "That letter will put the story into motion, we have only to wait for a response."

As he moved back to his desk and sat down, Harry nodded. Then, he spoke up. "This seems, then, like a good time to ask you what has happened while I've been gone. I've only received vague explanations from the realm 'jumpers' as to what has been occurring. Attacks, Voldemort gaining followers, resistance from light forces. There was a battle at the Ministry itself, the June before last? That's about all. What's happened? What have we lost? Deaths? Most non-humans give little care to human casualties, see them as little more than statistics in a war that has only started reaching their own lives. And they were my only sources. And I have a right to know, now, as I am back." His voice was steely and demanded answers.

"I do not dispute your right to know, not anymore. As to what..."

Suddenly, Albus broke off with a start. The Floo of the fireplace had flared to life. Two figures stumbled in, regained their footing, and straightened. Dusting themselves off, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black turned towards the headmaster.


	4. Accipere

Chapter Four- Reactions

Dusting themselves off, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black turned towards the headmaster.

Albus glanced at the newly returned Harry, only to find the chair empty and the tea set missing a cup. Startled he darted his eyes around the still office, into the shadows, the corners that may of hid the boy. Then, as Albus's hand brushed the parchment certificate on his desk where he had placed it, he abandoned his search. Apparently Harry wanted to remain unseen, and the headmaster realized he no reason to deny that.

A small cough drew Dumbledore's head up from gazing at his desk to the two newest arrivals to his office. Placing on a delayed smile of welcome, he looked into the concerned eyes of his former students.

"Hello, my boys," Albus called cheerfully, acting as though nothing was amiss in his behavior.

"... Hello, Albus," Remus answered, somewhat slowly. "Is everything quite alright?" He made a quick glance of the office, then restored his sight upon the headmaster. Something seemed a little off, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Of course, Remus. Why do you ask?" Albus turned an almost indulgent smile on the werewolf and his companion.

For his part, Remus's partner was looking at Dumbledore with his eyebrows raised. While the headmaster was a bit odd at times, alright, most of the time, this was a little stranger than even that. Sirius, too, scanned the office, then turned back to Albus.

Remus shook his head in answer to Dumbledore's question, with a smile that indicated he wasn't sure why. "It's nothing, I'm certain."

"Good, good." Albus then raised one of his own eyebrows. "What do I owe to this most welcome visit?"

Remus and Sirius glanced at one another, then looked back at the headmaster with vaguely disbelieving expressions. Remus was the one to finally answer. "We've come to give you our report to the Order."

"Yeah, you know, about our mission?" Sirius continued. "The one we just got back from? As we always do when we return from them?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Must of slipped my mind." Both younger men's eyes widened slightly. "What did you find in Denmark? Were the wizard Danes responsive to an allegiance?"

Remus drew out a scroll as he tried to respond. "Uh... er, right. Some were. Uh, here." Albus never before forgot anything regarding the Order, especially the members' returns from their missions, and the shock of it was causing the normally articulate werewolf to lose the better part of his vocabulary. Shaking his head a little to clear it from thoughts of the headmaster finally losing what had remained of his wits, he stepped over to the desk and handed Dumbledore the parchment.

"Excellent," Albus said as he took the proffered paper. "I'll set up a meeting so you can report to the Order. I believe a couple others are returning within the next couple days, so we'll have it so everyone can have their say." Both Remus and Sirius nodded, still looking a bit concerned at their old mentor. "Now, as you've returned, I suppose you are enthusiastic to take your positions..." Albus broke off as Sirius exclaimed.

"I know what's odd in here! Nothing's moving!" Remus turned and looked at his old friend. "What? Remus, look! Even the pictures are still."

Remus glanced at the portraits with a startled inhale. "You're right."

"You don't have to sound so incredulous." Sirius muttered half-heartedly.

Remus just glared at him briefly, before directing his sight back on the headmaster. He watched the man glance again into the shadows of the office, then mutter something under his breath. If not for his enhanced sense of hearing from his lycanthropy, he would never have understood it.

"Wonder why he didn't reanimate everything. For that matter, why did he still the things to begin with. And how?"

As Remus tried in vain to fathom what Dumbledore was talking about, Sirius, who hadn't heard, questioned the headmaster. "Albus, what's going on? You've been acting a little, well, strange, and now this. What's happening?"

Albus looked to be about to respond when his gaze sharpened at something beyond the two men. He cocked his head in question, then nodded when he apparently received affirmation. The two Marauders watched the leader of the Order's curious behavior and glanced behind themselves, but seeing nothing, turned back. Both men's brows furrowed in confusion, as Dumbledore's rose in query to the unseen.

Suddenly, Remus stilled and then pivoted straight around, pulling his wand from his robes. Sirius turned himself, a half-step behind his comrade. He, too, drew his wand and pointed it in synchronous with Remus's towards a silhouette in the shadow that manifested itself before them. Then his wand abruptly met the floor as it fell from his slack fingers, when the figure drew out of the darkness and revealed its form to the men. Remus's wand shook, but didn't altogether waver from the young man who stood in front of him. He couldn't drop his wand, he was gripping it too tightly.

"Harry..." Sirius unknowingly echoed Albus's earlier stunned vociferation.

Completely exiting the cloaking shadows, Harry stepped towards his godfather and his once tutor. He halted before them, a beam of light blazing a boundary between him and the stunned men. Dumbledore watched, the widening of his eyes the only sign of his being startled when he saw that not only were Harry's clothes changed to stylish, if nondescript, robes, but that his symbol of aura was concealed. Albus figured it was a Glamour of some kind, though he knew of none capable of covering a design of magic such as that. Though he couldn't see the young wizard's neck, the headmaster supposed that Harry had also secreted his dimension transport symbol. He had apparently been prepared.

As Albus observed the men in his office, Sirius shook his head slightly as though consolidating his awareness with the evidence before his eyes. Unable to fully do so, he turned his gaze to Dumbledore, seeking attestation from a source he trusted more than his own senses at the moment. Albus half-smiled back, with his usual ocular twinkle. Figuring that as a positive response, he looked first at his ostensibly shocked partner, then back at the source of the astonishment.

For his part, Harry's eyes gleamed with what could only be called amusement. Deciding to end their disorientation, he smiled and addressed his godfather.

"Hallo, Sirius. It's me, truly. I, er, well, after we first met," Harry reaffirmed with something only they would know, "you told me that you were my godfather, and then asked me to live with you. You hadn't thought I would want to, and were surprised when I immediately agreed. I think we are the only ones that would have known that. Oh, and then you were the one that explained about certain Death Eaters when you snuck up here in my fourth year and hid in a cave outside of Hogsmeade."

Sirius again shook his head, not negating, but rather still not comprehending everything.

"... Bloody Merlin. How, how is this possible? Harry... You, we thought you where... dead. What, where... Hell, Harry, what's going on?"

Harry ducked his head, a smile playing about his lips at his godfather's quite disorganized rambling. Then, swallowing his chuckle, he once more looked up, gazing into Sirius's eyes.

"It's a long story, Sirius. I'll explain, in a minute. But it's good, great to see you. I've missed you." Harry smiled earnestly at the Animagus. Then he turned to the werewolf who was staring at him very intently, if less stunned, "And Professor Lupin, you too. It's been too long."

"Harry..." Lupin started, then continued after a second, "We've missed you as well. We thought you, well, we did think you had been killed. There was no evidence to refute that." He seemed to be struggling to grasp the truth.

"I know, but I daresay there was no evidence to substantiate that, either. Not as I am here." This was said with a mock sardonic lilt, garnering a startled smile from both of the older men. "Anyway, as to that, I will speak. Perhaps we should sit?"

A glance to Dumbledore, who gestured permission, and Harry made to move to the chair he had earlier vacated. Before he could, Sirius stepped forward quickly, grabbed his forearm and drew him into a sound embrace. Harry returned it, grinning, as then Remus drew forward and placed a hand on his arm. "Welcome back, Harry."

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A/N: If you wish a personal response to a review, include your email. Or email me at Moonpoetess03 at yahoo . com (remove the spaces).

Regards to all my readers. -Zenn


	5. Narrare

Chapter Five- Conti

Remus drew forward and placed a hand on his arm. "Welcome back, Harry."

In short order, the wizards occupying the still office had moved and made use of the overstuffed chairs, the silence playing awkwardly around them. Still watching Harry as though he was an apparition desperate to disappear at a moment's notice, Sirius seemed to wish to break the quiet, but was unknowing of how to accomplish such an arduous task. He finally turned his gaze to the others in the room, first towards Remus who had regained his usual mild expression but seemed singularly unwilling to assist him in this matter, than towards Dumbledore who sat, as was also commonplace, with the twinkle present in his eye.

Finally the headmaster broke the silence, "Lemon Drop?" The ever-present benign set of features smiled amicably at the younger men. When the response was only the general shaking of heads from the three before him, Albus conjured extra cups to the tea set and poured for each of the other wizards without bothering to inquire whether they actually waited any. For their parts, each took a cup when it was handed over to them, though both Sirius and Remus did look oddly at the moving pattern. Harry, his being a replacement of the one he must of vanished, just took to drinking quietly.

"Harry," Sirius ultimately decided to stop hedging, never being the most patient of men. "What happened?" _Well, that was vague,_ he thought to himself, but nonetheless looked to see what his godson would do with the question.

Harry seemed to understand his godfather's nonexistent eloquence, and answered accordingly. "During my vassalage by, well, I suppose we are all well acquainted with the one that held me, but for purposes of my story I may as well state it- Tom Riddle. As well, I suppose, the duration of my imprisonment is not in question," Harry's voice fair trailed off in seeming thought, but allowed no time for anyone else to speak before recommencing, "But at the end of it, I was ordered killed. That much I recall, though most of the remainder is hazy and indistinct. As for what occurred next, that as well is ambiguous, I am just uncertain. I was told later that through a vague process, I was taken to a safe haven, after being spirited away from the place where I was being held."

Pausing, Harry looked at his godfather and old mentors. All appeared rapt in attention. Even Dumbledore seemed as though he had not a hand in the creation of the yarn that Harry was currently weaving. Not wishing for the others to interrupt his narrative, Harry continued. "I was taken into a community of magical persons, whom for their safety I must not speak of, and rehabilitated, then taught, until such time as I could return. With their assistance, I was able to work through any remaining complications," A wry twist of the lips, "of my time captured, and continued my magical education. I'm afraid, beyond that I must not orate, again for security."

The silence was still for a moment, then Albus sat back with a private smile, thinking on how the tale spoken gave none but vague facts, yet seemed to satisfy much more. Manipulation of persons, situations, and what's more, words, was something the headmaster was well familiar with. Harry's "education" instructed him on more than magic, noted Dumbledore. Turning his thoughts from his ever growing list of behaviors of Harry's he had noted, Albus watched as both Sirius and Remus allowed the story to register.

"That's it?" While satisfying some curiosity, Sirius didn't seem to think the account was quite enough.

"Sirius, I explained, I can't say anymore." Harry answered his impetuous godfather steadily. For the good it did him.

"You've been gone for two years, Two years, and that is all you will tell us? Me, your godfather?" Sirius didn't leave time for an answer. "Harry, do have any idea what you did, disappearing? How upset we all were? How upset, hell, the wizarding world was? Your friends, family? We thought you were dead! . . ."

"I am not, but should I speak perhaps others would end up that way. I would not that I would have their deaths on my conscience. And on yours."

Sirius stopped dead, mid rant as his godson spoke. His words effectively killed Sirius's hasty and hurt argument. He glanced down into his teacup, from which he hadn't yet drank. He watched the dregs swirl as his hand shook slightly; in anger, hurt, confusion, he didn't know. He couldn't figure how to respond to the younger wizard he considered like a son, so he didn't. Glancing sideways, Sirius watched as the sunlight still spilling in through the windows danced infallibly upon the oddly still portraits. The office dimmed, then brightened once more as an unseen, (from the room's occupants' positions), obstruction moved past the sun. Sirius turned back towards his long-lost godson.

"How did you, I assume you, freeze the portraits?"

If Harry was at all startled by the quietly spoken question abruptly changing the subject of their conversation, he did not deign to show it. In more fact, he seemed pleased, an emotion presented in the light smile he bestowed on his godfather.

"An obscure stasis spell, meant for animate inanimate objects. Fairly unknown, though I found it useful."

"Wonder if it would work on that hag at the house." Sirius muttered to himself, eliciting a quick smile from both his partner and his leader. Harry blinked, but judged it not prudent to compromise the precarious peace by asking for clarification of that seemingly unfathomable statement.

Returning to sentences understood by all in the room, Sirius turned the conversation once more near the one before, though this only ran parallel to the previous.

"Er, Harry, I do understand, I guess," A quick smile. "Why you can't say more. But you know, I just want to know what happened, why you didn't come back sooner, or at least let us know you were alive." Sirius spoke earnestly, trying to will his godson to answer.

Harry was quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought as his gaze was slightly unfocused. Reestablishing himself in the present, Harry met his godfather's blue gaze sharply with his intense green one. He was slow in answering, but he did after a moment.

"Padfoot, you don't know how hard it was not to return sooner. I wished above all else to contact someone, to know what was happening here." Harry still intently gazed into the other's eyes, showing the truth and wistfulness in his own. Emotions he consciously allowed presence, when usually his mask kept them hidden. "I could not. Not through plan of my own, but for many reasons. I had to stay hidden, however much I wanted to return. Eventually it was for the best, as I learned things I needed there, that I may not have learned here. Those I was with helped me greatly." Harry broke off his keen stare, smiling gently in remembrance. He glanced at the silent other members of the room, both of which seemed content to allow the interaction between the god-fellows to reveal that which they were interested in.

"Harry," Sirius said after a moment, "I still don't understand."

"You don't have to, Sirius. Perhaps one day, when other danger transcends this. Don't think on it, even I took a long while to grasp it all, while I was gone. Just accept it. Allow me to just be back."

Gazing at him, Sirius finally nodded, and offered a small smile. Harry responded in kind, then looked to the headmaster.

"Professor Dumbledore. As I am back, I would like to return to school, if you would allow it?" Harry had returned to continuing his act for the others. "I would be willing to test in my subjects to make sure I fit in my year. As I know you are unable to speak to anyone or have any indication about that which I studied."

"Well, Harry." Dumbledore's eyes glinted amused. "I am not certain. The school board doesn't like students to transfer without records and all of that. Not to mention most of the world thinks you deceased . . ."

"Honestly, Albus! Of course you have to let him back!" Sirius was indignant, and apparently perfectly accepting of Harry returning without further questioning for the time being.

"Now, Sirius, if you will let me finish." A slightly chiding tone garnered a small sheepish smile from Sirius. He tried not to feel as though he were in school again, but Albus sometimes had that effect. The headmaster continued, now attempting to contain a smile himself, though his was born of mischievousness. "As I was saying, I have rarely allowed myself to be governed by others, even those of the board," A couple of quirked grins were brought by that statement. "And ergo, I believe that Harry is more than welcome to rejoin his class. Should he prove his education worthy, of course." Glancing around, Albus than mumbled to himself, "I suppose I'll have to call a staff meeting. I'm going to have a time with all these extra occurrences."

"Harry," Remus finally spoke after all of this time, causing Sirius to start next to him. With a slight snicker, he went on, "Harry, do you have any belongings or anything? I see you have your wand," That was still hanging on Harry's waist, shown by the open outer robe. "But what about other things? Your trunk and things from two years ago are at Sirius's home, but I daresay your old clothes won't fit very well."

"Oh, I don't know, Dudley's hand-me-downs may still. Not that I really want to try." Harry grinned at the werewolf, who shook his head slightly. "As for things now, I didn't bring clothes more than these. Where I was, well, we all wore the same apparel, a uniform of sorts. So . . ."

"So you'll need supplies. Well, I suppose that Albus will need a bit of time to gather the other professors to form those placement tests for you," Remus glanced at Albus, and receiving a nod, continued, "so you will be able to get some things. Perhaps from Diagon Alley?"

"Not without me." Sirius interrupted, glancing at Harry. "I'm not letting you go by your self."

"Sirius, I am an adult and . . ." Harry trailed off at the glare that his godfather gave him. He realized that those that cared for him would be reluctant to see him away, so he smiled and let Sirius continue being overprotective, at least for now.

"Yes, yes, that probably would be good." Albus said, gazing at them. "I would think that both you, Sirius, and you, Remus, could stand to have a break. And a little time getting reacquainted," he gestured to Harry with a nod. "As to that, why don't you all take yourselves off to Diagon Alley? You can stop at Grimmauld Place, Sirius, to get your Gringotts keys, and then enjoy a day out. We can discuss your positions when you return later. Meanwhile, I'll gather and talk to the other professors. Sound well?"

Both Remus and Sirius gazed at the headmaster a moment, then nodded. Harry thought for a minute longer, then addressed Dumbledore.

"I'll be recognized. It may, no, it will cause a stir."

"Yes, an excellent way to announce your return, think you not?" Albus's eyes glinted with mirth.

Harry didn't seem to think so, and with little mirth, he finally agreed. _Well, at least it will be an even more interesting day than I had planned,_ Harry thought sardonically.

As all of the wizards in the still quiet office rose to take their leave, Remus and Sirius moving to the Floo, Harry had to ask. "What is Grimmauld Place?"


	6. Foras

Chapter Six- Outing

"What is Grimmauld Place?"

With a burst of green flame, the three companions landed in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place, more or less gracefully. Regaining his footing quite smoothly, Harry pushed his hair back from his face and smoothed the robes he now wore, before turning to look at his godfather. As Remus came through the Floo behind them, the werewolf stumbled on a bit of uneven stone along the floor. Quicker than the older wizards could see, Harry solidly grabbed his former mentor's arm, allowing Remus a moment for his innate balance to reassert itself. With a nearly startled smile of appreciation to the youngest of them, Remus then flicked his gaze to his partner. Harry withdrew his hand and turned to peruse the dim room.

The stone walls appeared primeval, as did the cumbersome dining table and chairs that seemed to have been made eras ago when furnishings were meant to be oppressive as a show of lucre. As Harry scanned the room, his eyes alighted on an evidently fresh adornment above the overly large fireplace the three had just traveled through. A large shield, silver with a framework of brass, was mounted against the expanse of grey masonry. In the center of the welded metal, a golden visage of a phoenix looked to be flying out of its setting towards the wizards. Harry took in the resplendence of the work; he also noticed that the lack of dust and other settling features on the piece, which were rather prominent along the rest of the decor, indicated it was a very recent addition to the room.

After a moment, Harry turned once again to his godfather. The green eyes met blue, before Sirius shifted his gaze to the side. He appeared slightly nervous in his mannerisms, dusting his hands along the sides of his trousers warily. Noting this, Harry merely raised an eyebrow and kept a studied expression of ease gracing his features.

"Well, Harry, _this_ is Grimmauld Place." Remus ultimately stated to break the silence when the others were not willing to do it.

"I had figured that much." Harry allowed a jesting smirk to quirk his lips, turning to Remus, who returned it in kind.

"Yes, well, this is also both Sirius's house and the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

"The Order of the Phoenix? I heard you discussing that earlier, briefly. I assume it has something to do with Voldemort?" Harry queried, leaving the bit about the place being Sirius's quiet for a moment, as he made to get his questions answered.

Seeming a bit more calm at Harry not reacting to his place, Sirius responded.

"Yeah, it's an organization Dumbledore created. He formed it back during Voldemort's first rise to power, and reconvened it after his return. We were in it originally," He gestured to Remus and himself, "along with your parents and some amount of others."

Harry nodded and considered for a moment, before asking, "And what does this group do?"

The older wizards glanced at each other, then Remus said, "Well, we work against Voldemort. But I'm sure you gathered that much." He flashed a slight smile. "The Order recruits people to our side, thwarts attempts of the Death Eaters, tries to defeat the enemies. That sort of thing. It's not my place to say more. I..." Remus trailed off, a little uncertain.

"It's all right, Remus. I can understand that." Harry's tone was slightly abashed, even as he vowed to himself to get some more definitive answers from the headmaster. And apparent leader of the Order.

Deciding to leave that subject off for the moment, Harry said, "So, this place is yours, Sirius?"

Clearing his throat, the man nodded. "Yeah. Well, it was my . . . family's place. They were rather, er, against my choice of allegiance. You know, with the light side, so to speak. They were . . . uh, dark."

Sirius glanced at Harry, seemingly waiting for his reaction to this. When all his godson did was nod and raise his brows in query, he sighed and gestured the others to the overbearing dining set. He summoned a couple of butterbeers and handed one to Remus and Harry each.

"I never agreed with them much when I was young," Sirius explained, "then I was sorted into Gryffindor, and joined with Dumbledore and everyone after school. They disowned me, and I can't say I was too upset." A wry smile flitted on his lips. "I had hoped not to deal with anything of my family's after that, but as I am now the only Black left, I inherited. So I offered Dumbledore use of this place as headquarters. It was about all I could do last year, anyway."

Before Harry could ask about that, Remus spoke up. "I think we should probably get going. We can explain more later, maybe over lunch in Diagon Alley?"

Harry nodded, and Sirius stood up. Banishing the butterbeers that none of them had drank, he gestured for the others to follow him. He led them up some narrow stairs and through a veritable maze of hallways, pointing out particular rooms and adjacent hallways to Harry. As he looked into the aforementioned places, Harry could distinctly note the evidence of previous dark inhabitancy. While showing a level of care and work of light charms, there still existed an ingrained hint of shadow. Not necessarily evil, per say, but something besides goodness.

Sirius drew up quickly to a closed door down a gloomy passageway. Opening the door, he explained. "This was my old room, when I was a kid. I put your things in here, Harry. You know, after you disappeared."

Harry nodded, then walked into the room after his godfather. Remus stood in the doorway and leaned against the frame, half-smiling. Sirius pushed aside the heavy velvet curtains over the window with a flick of his wand and a muttered charm. Harry blinked and let his eyes grow accustomed to the sharp light piercing through the shaded room. Though somewhat bare, it was still impressive, in sheer size if nothing else. Looking around, Harry noticed a familiar trunk against the far wall.

As Harry walked over to it, he knew without turning that Sirius was moving out of the room, brushing by Remus. Acting as though he hadn't sensed anything, he just stopped in front of the trunk. Harry discerned that the layer of dust present on the few other objects occupying the room was absent from it. As though someone had taken care to keep it clean, or had perhaps looked through it recently. Smiling lightly, Harry opened it and beheld his old belongings.

Stationed on the top of the contents was a photo album and a yellowed scrap of parchment. He fingered the album, remembering when he had received it, and then picked up the paper. Chuckling, he glanced at Remus, feigning surprise that Sirius was no longer in the room.

Smiling at the famous, or rather infamous, Map Harry held, Remus said, "Sirius went to get our keys from our rooms. He'll be back in a minute."

Harry nodded, then continued going through the trunk. He pulled aside the silvery invisibility cloak he so cherished, reached through the now much too small robes and worn second hand muggle clothes, until he reached a small pouch at the bottom. Withdrawing the satchel, he set the other items gently back into place and straightened up. He undid the fastening, dumping the contents out onto his palm. A few Galleons and a couple Sickles clinked against each other, then a small golden key fell atop them.

Sirius returned with the keys he had gone to fetch, a bright smile alighting his winsome face as he looked at his partner and godson. With a buoyant wave, he gestured for them to follow him out of the room, and led them back down the labyrinth of hallways to the kitchen. As they walked, Harry tied the satchel closed, attaching it to his belt near his wand. Once they reached their destination, Sirius went to the fireplace and, grinning, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder.

"Off we go then, gents!" Sirius exclaimed, smirking cheekily when Remus raised an eyebrow at him.

"You must excuse him, Harry," Remus murmured in an aside, "he actually enjoys using the Floo." He shook his head in mock exasperation.

Smiling, Harry too gathered a pinch of Powder and moved to go after his godfather into the green flames, repeating the seemingly nonsense phrase Sirius uttered. After an abominable trip of inconceivable spinning, he was sent viciously from the fireplace to land sharply against the stone beyond the grate. Easily rising even with his knee screaming protest where he had hit the ground, he ran his hands down his robes to smooth them.

Brushing his hair back away from his face, Harry muttered, "Will never get use to that. Worst way to travel." _Give me realm jumping any day,_ he thought to himself.

Sirius grinned brightly at him, also pushing his hair back and getting the wrinkles out from his own robes. With a blast of fire, Remus appeared behind them, grasping at the edge of the hearth to keep from pitching over. As he too shook out his clothes, Harry noticed that both of his companions were in fairly nice traveling robes. Gone were the shabby suits and prison rags that the two had sported when Harry had known them before. They looked much refined and much healthier both. In the bright light of the room they had appeared in, Harry could see Sirius's hair was long and glossy, his features full instead of sunken, and most brilliant were his eyes, having lost the haunted look of sorrow. And Remus, though still tired in appearance, seemed to have a marked improvement otherwise. His light hair was shorter than his partner's, but shone smoothly, and his eyes were a more vivid glint of startling amber. Apparently they had accustomed well together, even with circumstances most dire.

Watching them, Harry nearly felt awkward returning to a place he seemed to no longer belong to. It almost was as though this world and himself had grown apart. He was startled to realize he missed the life he had endured in the other realm, as one becomes homesick when away. When his older companions turned to him after gathering themselves, Harry jolted himself out of his somber thoughts and concentrated on them.

"You all right, Harry?" Remus asked, noting a strange look enter his former student's eye that was quickly repressed. When Harry just smiled lightly and nodded, Remus shrugged to himself, realizing that he wasn't quite sure how to deal with the dignified young man before him. Deciding to fill the gaining odd silence, Remus explained, "We came to a safe house, instead of going directly to the Alley. Makes it safer if the only grate headquarters is open to is this one."

Harry nodded again, glancing around the room. "So that phrase we said, instead of a location, was that a code or something?"

"Yeah," Sirius responded, watching Harry carefully. "Only the pass codes will allow this grate to open, but that's why it was so violent. The Floo System doesn't really like not working with a location, and it is kind of wrenching."

"Kind of?" Remus muttered. "Only for us mere mortals is it completely disconcerting, apparently." Sirius preened and smirked.

Sirius too was having trouble with knowing how to act, but he figured he had best play it normal. He hoped that would allow them a chance to reconnect with his godson, a chance to become friends with him again. Maybe then he would figure out what exactly had gone on and was going on with him.

Shrugging aside that for the moment, Sirius addressed his compatriots. "Ready to go?" As they nodded, he went on, "Oh Moony, don't worry, this trip will be much smoother on your delicate constitution!"

Deliberately missing Remus's glare, Sirius swept back into the fireplace, yelling an amused, "Diagon Alley!"

Harry chuckled as Remus glowered into the hearth and tossed his head with a long suffering sigh. Their antics were slowly working to improve Harry's spirits and he found himself looking forward to their company for the day, knowing he would not much care for the rest of the trip. He flashed a grin at Remus, inwardly groaning as he imagined his reception._ Might as well get on with it. What will come, will come,_ he thought as he followed his godfather.

Landing in this grate was an improvement to that last, allowing the three to maintain a modicum of dignity. As Harry stepped out of the overlarge fireplace, his foot fell on the wooden floor of a room. He gazed around the small area which looked to be diminutive to the hearth it contained, noting that the windows in the walls had no curtains, but were covered with what seemed to be paint.

Seeing Harry's gaze, Sirius said as Remus came through the Floo, "This is just a private grate we use from that house. Easier than using the public ones."

Sirius turned back as they left the small quarters and tapped the door with his wand. Smoothly the door concealed itself, looking as though it was melting into the dull brick of the wall. Making sure it was completely covered, Sirius then spun around and jauntily waved for the others to walk with him.

As they moved, Harry scanned the alleyway they were in. The red brick of the walls was dim and dirty, and seemed to close around the interlopers of the quiet. They walked in shadow as the sun did not pierce over the enclosures of the passageway. Turning slightly at a curve, they continued down towards the light filtering in from a distance. Harry could already hear the bustle of noise from the busy street.

Abruptly Harry stopped, a tingling warning him of danger. Pivoting, he brandished his wand into the gloom, Remus and Sirius spinning around after him.

A dark figure of a man came into view, also holding a wand. As he came towards them, the man spoke. "Well, well. What have we here?" Drawled Lucius Malfoy.


	7. Praenuntius

Chapter Seven- Vanguard

"Well, well. What have we here?" Drawled Lucius Malfoy.

The minute widening of the eyes was the only outward sign Harry showed of his shock. While he appeared stoic, his stomach seemed to him a ball of lead, and he felt desperate to run. His flight or fight response was set for escape, but he wouldn't allow himself. It was no matter that seeing the platinum hair and stony grey eyes drew memories he had long since thought to have dealt with. No matter every image of his captivity those years ago swarmed his mind, in so many of which the man before him had played part. He would not back down, though his soul begged it of him.

His thoughts showed not on his face, even as the known Death Eater moved towards them, eyes narrowing at the lack of response from his quarry.

"No greeting to an old friend? Tsk, I would have thought better of such vaunted warriors of the light." A smile of ice turned Malfoy's lips, rendering the others' blood cold.

Neither Sirius nor Remus had managed to produce their wands in the startled spinning to face their opponent, and they attempted to reach for them now. Lucius stilled their hands with a slight change of aim towards them, away from the younger wizard. He knew it was no folly- no matter where the boy had been for so long, his rectitude was born and breed in him. Potter would not risk the others being injured by Lucius's wand, even if he might allow threat to himself. The eldest of their little standstill had always counted on that type of thing in his opposition, it had gained him such victory in his battles. Lucius's smile modified to a smirk.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Sirius hissed angrily. He didn't like being held at wandpoint, and judging by the increase of the smirk on Malfoy's face, he knew it.

"Oh, Black, how kind of you to ask." The brows rose slightly on the three before Lucius, but he just continued. "I just wanted to welcome Mr. Potter home, _properly_. Its only fair for such a celebrity as he." Keeping his wand aimed at the older two of his foes, Lucius turned his gaze to the last. "And it has been so long since last we met, has it not, _Harry_?"

Sirius bristled in rage and Remus narrowed his eyes dangerously. Malfoy's expression only gained in venom as he eyed Harry for reaction and found none.

"Come now, _Harry_, have you nothing to say to me? We had gotten so . . . _close_, before your daring disappearance." The inflection of Lucius's voice turned taunting, and his smirk seemed to gain a leering quality. "Surely you didn't forget our _familiarity_ whilst you've been away?"

Though the mockery and memories were struggling to both crush and enrage him, for his part, Harry forced himself to focus. Rash action, once such a skill of his, had been burned from him in the past two years, and he knew any action he took had to be calculated.

"Although, your time gone has certainly done wonders for you. You had been looking quite peaked when I last . . . saw you. And now, well . . ."

As Malfoy ran his eyes up and down him in appraisement, Harry felt ire surge through him, making his blood boil in its veined paths. Using that anger to quicken his thought process, Harry made his own appraisal. Not willing to risk his secret of abilities until it became inescapable, he knew he would have to move swiftly and surely. Fortunately, he was well trained in that respect.

Before Malfoy could continue with his barbed words, and before Sirius recklessly attacked the man bare handed, which he seemed very near to doing in his fury, Harry twitched his wand in a slight flick that was meant for all of the men around him.

"Legerdemius!" Harry hissed out through clenched teeth. Used to confuse those it was case upon, the sleight of hand curse caused them not to register what next one did. Not well known, it therefore wouldn't be picked up by his compatriots that he had used it on them as well.

This time waving his free hand, he cast a quick binding curse, blocking Malfoy's access to his magical core for a moment, guaranteeing the others' safety. Noticeably Dark, it was also very draining, and as the first curse faded, Harry exclaimed, "Expelliarmus!"

The Death Eater's wand flew into Harry's hand and he abruptly dropped the bind. Lucius collapsed to his knees, his breath hitching as he was overwhelmed. The stunned look on his face showed he had not a clue what had just occurred, allowing Harry to calm slightly. Having regained their cognitive facilities, both Remus and Sirius pulled free their wands and spelled Malfoy unconscious and bound.

Turning to Harry, Sirius rushed up to him and grabbed him by a shoulder. "Harry, are you all right?"

Before he could respond, the sharp crack of apparation alerted him of someone appearing behind him. Pulling his arm free of Sirius's grasp, Harry spun to confront the newest arrival, instincts telling him it was not an ally. They were proven right when a dagger flashed above as it was stabbed towards him. Harry jerked back, forcing Sirius away as well. As the dagger missed its target the cloaked figure moved forward to try again. In the close proximity and with his wand arm pushing back on his godfather, Harry couldn't cast a spell, even wandless, as it would risk deflection.

Ducking another swipe of the blade and knocking Sirius to the ground with surprising strength, Harry pulled out a dagger hidden in a leg sheath under the spartan robes he wore. Raising up under the trajectory of his opponent's swing, Harry thrust his blade towards him. Caught by momentum, the unknown assailant couldn't dodge the sharp steel, and Harry felt as it carried true on its path, cleanly piercing through tissue of the figure. The man stiffened then went limp, forcing Harry to push him away with his other arm, which had since sheathed his wand to his hip. The Death Eater, as identified by his costume, fell to the ground, pulling free of the dagger Harry still held tightly.

The thump of the body was overshadowed by another crack, as yet another swarthy figure appeared, this time near Remus who had been mercifully clear of the other battle, but hadn't been able to cast any spells, not wanting to hit his companions. The man lunged for him, but Remus was ready, having some perks in his lycanthropy. He grabbed the figure under the arm, which was carrying a similar weapon to his late fellow's, and knocked him sideways. The preternatural force sent the man into the dull wall with a sickening crunch, and he lay still where he landed.

"Come on!" Remus grasped his partner's arm, yanking him fully upright as he was rising. He then clenched Harry's arm in a steadfast grip and pulled him towards the still far entrance onto Diagon Alley. "We need to get out of here, quick!"

Both of them suddenly dodged sideways as their heightened senses realized another apparation. The newest figure that had suddenly appeared turned as Harry and Remus moved away, unfortunately trapping them against the wall and each other. As the man raised his own dagger, he made to cut, but found his arm held and twisted back. Sirius jerked him from behind away from his friend and godson, continuing to wrench the man's arm.

"My turn." Sirius claimed, with another wrench that caused a sounding snap of bone. As the Death Eater yelled out, Sirius forced him to his knees, and picking up a discarded dagger, brought the hilt in contact with the back of the man's head. The figure slumped to the ground, but before the three could again attempt a run, the familiar crack sounded.

Reaching to his compatriots who had moved toward him, Sirius dropped the dagger and grabbed both of the men. Pulling them back, he ground out, "Damn! Why the bloody hell do they keep coming?!"

Remus shook his head, continuing to move backwards with them. Both he and Sirius had lost their wands, and he was trying to figure out what to do. He knew they were too far from the private Floo and the Death Eater was blocking the other escape route, holding his own dagger, a match to the others'. Harry reached for his own wand, which gave more power than wandless magic, but before he could grasp it, the cloaked man charged at them.

Harry waved out his free arm, the one not being pulled and strangled by his godfather, and sent a burst of power at the attacker. At this point, even the risk of everyone finding out what he could do was worth it to stay alive. The man was thrown several feet in the air, his robes whipping in the wind and his mask wresting off. Harry didn't recognize the man, but soon couldn't see his face as he hit the wall of the alleyway and collapsed face down on the ground.

Suddenly, Sirius's hand was wrenched off of Harry's arm and turning, he saw that a new Death Eater had a dagger pressed tight to his godfather's throat. Apparently the other sounds had covered his arrival. Both he and Remus tensed as the figure dragged Sirius backwards slightly, causing him to wince as the man yanked his hair back to reveal his throat more to the knife. Remus's foot hit a wand as he shifted, but the harder press of the knife to his partner's neck, drawing a line of blood, kept him from reaching for it. Meanwhile, Harry knew without doubt that his godfather was moments from death and looked for some way to stop it.

Spotting a glinting blade in the still dim light of the alleyway, laying a short distance behind the Death Eater and his hostage, Harry focused on it. Working to keep the extremely difficult wandless magic steady, Harry floated the dagger up from the ground and turned the blade to point at the hooded figure. When the man again pressed harder on the knife on Sirius's throat, Harry swiftly forced the dagger directly behind the Death Eater and called it forward. As the blade collided and sunk into his back with a indeterminate sound, the man stiffened, pulling harder on the knife he held for a moment, before dropping his arm and staggering back and down.

Harry jumped forward and grabbed hold of his godfather, pulling him towards him and Remus. All of them tensed, glancing around for the next adversary. At the distinctive lack of another crack, the three of the them moved cautiously, looking at the fallen Death Eaters. Remus reached down and picked up the wand he had seen, handing it to Sirius once identified, and scanned for his own. Listening and with other senses on high alert, he released his grip on his partner and walked over and picked up his wand when he found it. "We need to go . . ."

Remus was effectively cut off as a loud yell was heard from behind them. Pivoting to face danger once more, Harry realized their attacker was the one he had downed to save Sirius. He was very close, having been thought dead and not a danger, a fact which Harry had no time to berate himself about. The man rushed toward Sirius and him, too close and quickly for their spells. Just as the Death Eater raised his arm to strike down his godfather who was nearest, Harry pulled Sirius back behind him. In doing so, he allowed himself to be at risk, and before he could duck, his foe took advantage of that.

With a sharp pain, Harry felt the dagger slash across his chest, at first shallow, but slicing deeper in the downward stroke. As it found its sheath against his ribs and plunged further, Harry let out a gasp and jerked backwards against Sirius. The Death Eater staggered in to him, hitting the hilt of the dagger, causing a white hot spike of agony to lance through Harry's chest. The pain surged through him, but like it did other times, it gave him energy. Using the adrenaline, Harry grasped the man's head, and with a sharp push towards him, snapped his neck. Letting the body fall, Harry staggered himself, collapsing into his godfather's arms as darkness washed over him.


	8. Iterare

Chapter Eight- Reiterating

Harry staggered, collapsing into his godfather's arms as darkness washed over him.

Awareness came slowly to Harry, as he attempted to determine his surroundings and condition. Memories were hazy at the moment, but having had significant experience waking to dangerous situations, he pretended continued oblivion and willed his mind to return to function. As he worked to remember what had occurred to land him in his current state, he tested the feeling in his body, having the distinct idea something should be injured. All he registered was a vague sensation of dissociation from himself. The physical aspect of his being seemed to be reached through an obscuring fog.

Suddenly his memory supplied him with what had happened. The morning flooded through his mind, all the emotion and drama swamping him. Wondering where he was and whether Sirius and Remus were well, Harry then realized that he should feel rather in a bit of pain. Magic couldn't heal such a wound as he had sustained immediately, and pain relievers could only do so much. About that time he also grasped that he should physically feel something at the very least, and that registering his body in such an indistinct way as he was, was not a good thing.

Figuring that he wouldn't be able to determine his location without making his awareness known, as his senses were so strangely impaired, Harry forced his eyes open. Light and an unnatural whiteness assailed his sight, but the burning sensation usually associated with that was absent. Blinking, Harry focused and turned his head slightly to gaze around him.

What he saw caused him to sit up abruptly and struggle to contain a gasp. Glancing down at himself, he saw no sign of injury on his chest which was currently bare. He cautiously touched a hand to the unmarred middle of his pectoral muscles, where the dagger had surely pierced him. Then his hand dropped to his leg as he realized he was loosely clothed in linen trousers, set low on his hipbones and in a startling shade of red, matching blood more then anything. He wore nothing else, and his skin showed not the scars he had sustained through his life, even though he wasn't quite sure of his ability to be using a Glamour in this state.

Shaking his head slightly, Harry turned his attention to the area around him. As he slid off a cold tablet of stone, his strange attire stretched along the smooth sinew of his legs. Forcing himself to stand and steadily gain his balance, he looked at what he had been laying on. As the item registered, Harry took a quick step backwards. Before him was a sacrificial altar of pure white marble, apparently made with the utmost of care, the intricate etchings running down the sides well formed and made for the draining of life's blood. Unstained as those markings were, the stone mound had seemingly not yet seen use. Slowly looking at his surroundings once more, Harry concluded it fit most assuredly in this place.

Cast all in the same white marble, the walls too held complex carvings, these of apparent symbols that were not readily identified as writings. The ceiling was formed with blocks of the stone, held in place by tall round pillars. The altar itself, where Harry stood, was on a raised dais, surrounded by steps, all of the marble. The style and architecture was reminiscent of ancient Greek houses of worship to their many deities. Only this building was not aged, and seemed not to have been sullied by even so much as a physical presence alighting within it.

Harry moved down the steps, his bare footsteps made no sound, though it seemed as even breath should echo in the odd chamber. As Harry looked past the first line of caryatids, he saw many more in rows reaching to the solid walls. Glancing along these walls that effectively barricaded the room, he noticed that there were no doors or windows, indeed nothing present to suggest entrances or exits.

Thinking of possible spells that might be in effect, Harry felt along the thin material of his pants for his wand. Finding it futile as expected, Harry reached out his hands, palms down, and incanted a soft reveal charm. When nothing happened, including the feeling of the magic flowing through him, Harry's eyes narrowed and he attempted it again. Again the charm failed to be, and Harry dropped his hands to his sides. Muttering a couple of simple incantations designed to show magical lights and levels, Harry found himself rather panicked when they too did nothing. Forcing his now chaotic thoughts into a semblance of order, he worked to assess the situation.

_Well, let's see, shall we?_ Harry thought sarcastically. _No, no trouble. No idea where in the nine levels of hell I am, no way to get out, and no magic. Nothing is ever easy, is it?_

Heaving a sigh, Harry curbed his frustration and looked more intently upon the seeming temple. _What is this place?_ Harry then blinked as he realized it almost seemed familiar, though he knew he had never been to a place like it, in either realm. _How could I know it?_

Harry stepped to one of the near columns, glancing up and down it as though it may explain what was happening. Guardedly, he reached a hand to brush the slick marble. Once he lay his fingers upon the cool stone, a startled breath hitched in his chest and his eyes widened. Swiftly he attempted to pull back his arm, but it was as though his hand was held fast.

Feelings burst through his mind, overwhelming in their intensity. He knew this place, this chamber, because it was a part of him, made of him. It was a world his mind supplied, at least in portion. The whiteness now did burn in magnitude, seeming to contain Harry's soul, forcing him to face it in purity. That was not nearly so staggering, though, as within the pureness a darkness swirled in menacing forms. The whiteness hid a specter behind itself, held it in itself.

As this sense permeated Harry's being, he struggled to conciliate his thoughts and gain control. As cognizance reinstated within him, Harry focused on the varying images that flooded through him. The light seemed to dance with some of the darkness, in jointed movements, at times melding to shades of grey, but always in balance with one another. This balance seemed to be of him, and Harry was slow to realize it was. Concentrating on it, his mind cleared and the sensations calmed.

Nonetheless, a troubling sagacity was entering his thoughts. Aspects of the darkness were not in sync with the flowing of the rest. They were familiar, Harry knew to what these shadows belonged, just as he knew they were not a part of him. Understanding shot within him as he refocused upon the seeming physical structures before him. Harry slowly pulled his shaking hand from the pillar, now not the aberrant white, but the swirling masses of colours that had filled his sight moments ago. Turning, he saw that all the surfaces too contained the solder of opposite tones. He could still identify the tints of his own, as well as those that were not.

The chamber was not physical. Harry could now grasp that. It was a manifestation, but not just of his mind. It did not just belong to him; this odd place that appeared as a temple was a meld of not only colours, but the consciousness of those which the light and dark comprised. Harry realized that this mental plane, for lack of any other description, was also another's.

At the heels of that realization, Harry was hit with the awareness of the other's presence. The colours intensified their frenzied movements, and the lonely darkness was matched against the molded shades of grey. As Harry watched in resignation, the seeming stark black of the singular shadows altered to the red tinted brown of dried blood, slowly becoming more crimson as if liquefying. It looked as though now the partnered opposites that were Harry's were bleeding the other's evil.

Before Harry's representation of his physical body, another hazy outline lazily solidified and became definitive. The form of the man looked back at him, a cruel smile edging his lips. Harry stared in vague disbelief for a moment, not allowing his shock to be evident, before gathering his wits.

"Hello, Tom. Long time. I must say though, your image of yourself is much better than what I remember to be your real form."

The smile grew upon his opponent's face. It turned the features cold and ominous. Features that were nothing like the true ones of the man. Instead of the pale, skeletal, and snakelike countenance on a thin body conceived of dark magic, before Harry stood a distinguished specimen of humanity. Were it not for the vicious expression, the man would easily have been seen as handsome. Tall, full-bodied, with sharp and piercing angles in a tan face, he radiated confidence and arrogance. His black hair swept the sides of his face as he subtly shifted stance and he was readily identified as the young head boy he had once been. The form of Tom Riddle had little in common with Lord Voldemort, except the eyes. The orbs still burned their slitted red, much out of place in the fair features.

Glancing down at the sleeve of the tailored robe he wore, the older wizard rose his arm slightly and smoothed out non-existent wrinkles before turning his malevolent gaze back to his foe.

"Yes, improved if you like this sort of thing, I suppose." The lips turned their smile to a sneer. "Hello, my young serpent. It has been awhile. Much too long."

"Well, I can't say I missed this, Tom." Harry answered, watching his opponent carefully. He refused to show how much the presence of his one-time tormentor and continued enemy was affecting him.

"Oh, dear, I am nearly wounded, my lion-snake."

"Damn, only nearly." Harry smirked cheekily.

Tom merely raised an eyebrow, and glanced around their swirling surroundings. "Interesting place our minds formed."

"Yeah, quite impressive. So which of us has the Mount Olympus complex?"

Ignoring the flippant question, Tom moved over to the raised platform and the altar. Running his hand along the etched sides and smoothing over the cold stone top, he looked upon the table as though it was a prized possession. Watching this, his thoughts supplied Harry with the helpful knowledge that Riddle was clinically insane. _As though anyone wasn't aware, _Harry thought sardonically.

"Well, if you're going to caress stone, all power to you. I, meanwhile, must be leaving." Harry kept his eyes trained on his long time nemesis, but focused inward, attempting to force his being back to his physical self and out of this strange plane of consciousness.

With unperceivable swiftness, Tom spun back towards Harry and moved nearer to him. Harry stepped backwards, his nerves tensing in defense. When Riddle again walked closer, Harry took a step in reverse once more, his back hitting the column he had earlier touched. As the sensations swept over him anew, Harry focused on the parts of it he recognized as his own. He allowed them to push through him, giving him strength.

Watching the movements of the man opposite him, Harry kept his gaze from Riddle's eyes. The man's form was disconcerting, but didn't send Harry into flashbacks as easily as Malfoy's had, as Riddle this way was unfamiliar. But the eyes were the same, and Harry couldn't afford to let emotion, be it fear or anger or anything else, to override his reason. Harry worked through the situation and possible ways to manipulate it. So intent was he on his thoughts and on monitoring the man who was now moving as though stalking him, Harry was slow to realize Riddle was speaking to him.

". . . know I find this much to my advantage. You see, I've great experience in levels of mentality, and as you so apparently do not, we could have such . . . fun."

Harry glared at him and moved so while his hand was still grazing the pillar, he was further removed from Tom's immediate vicinity.

"Harry, no need to be so apprehensive. I could make this very nice for the both of us."

Suddenly, Harry felt a rush up his arm of soothing pleasure, and he quickly jerked his hand from the pillar and moved away from it. He kept a firm gaze on the continued steps of his enemy and kept pace to stay far from him.

"Didn't like that, my little snake? Perhaps you're more masochistic than I thought. Very well, why don't we try the hard way?"

Abruptly, pain lanced up through the soles of Harry's bare feet and up his legs. The sharpness sent him to his knees, but not a sound escaped his lips. Focusing on making the continued agony manageable, Harry tried to comprehend just how Riddle was doing this. As he clenched his jaw and tucked his head to his chest, Harry stared at the floor.

"Harry, I could stop this. All you have to do is agree to that which you so foolishly denied two years ago. What you went through could have been ended with a mere yes. And I can assure you that it was nothing compared to what I can do here."

Harry watched the spiraling of the colours on the floor, noticing that the crimson seemed to be running in lines to his legs. He shook his head, as much to clear it as to refuse.

"Come now, my little serpent, my patience grows short. Don't tell me that you haven't thought of the power the darkness could give you. I know very well that has been something you have considered, quite recently in fact."

Forcing himself to ignore the increasing burning through the nerves in his body, Harry rose his head.

"And h-how exactly would you know this?" he sneered with a sharp inflection in his voice.

"Oh, I have my ways, my boy. I have quite the influence in many places."

"R-really. Well, your sources are r-rather mistaken, _Tommy_."

Riddle's eyes glinted dangerously, and Harry desperately swallowed a yell as the pain spiked tenfold, now encompassing his entire being.

"They are never _mistaken_, my protege. Now, a simple proposal. Join me, follow me, or die and know you are condemning all who oppose me to their own deaths."

"Nunquam, notha vipera."

"Igitur, nex."

White hot agony speared through Harry, bursting through his vision and removing cognitive thought to beyond his ability. The thought that the cruciatus curse seemed a mere trifle in comparison ran briefly across his brain before it seemed to shut down. He collapsed down, unconsciously wrapping his arms around his chest in a vain attempt to resist the pain. The muscles of his back worked painfully under his skin, writhing as the nerves were wrenched apart. Harry's entire body shook in spasms, and he could no longer remain on his knees.

Sliding down to his side, not aware of anything but the seemingly increasing torment, Harry's bare skin twitched against the cold stone. The red penumbrae in the marble continued to flow towards him, overpowering the grey across the entire chamber. As Voldemort's essence overwhelmed his, Harry's agonized movements slowly stilled. His body rested more fully against the floor.

As the blackness encroached on his awareness, promising sweet timeless oblivion, Harry moved past the pain still in him. Slowly his soul condensed to a single form of energy, all of the grey of the room moving and surrounding the manifestation of his body. As the energy sharpened in one last effort at life, it thrust through the still form laying there, disintegrating it and flowing through the chamber. Everything was consumed, the columns, altar, walls. As the life force surged over the figure of Tom Riddle, a scream was swallowed in its wake.

As the force rushed backwards, the mental plane split with a burst of light and pain. The energy refocused upon itself, and with a rushing of power, was impaled back within its physical form.

With a gasp of much needed air, Harry awoke clutching a sheet. Disoriented, he registered others around him. Summoning a dagger, he sprang from the bed and put the blade dangerously against a person's throat.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy this and everything coming up! A special Thank You to all of my reviewers of this and my other story - The Good Fight.

Nunquam, notha vipera - Never, bastard snake.  
Igitur,nex - Then, violent death.


	9. Reconcilio

Chapter Nine- Reunite

Summoning a dagger, he sprang from the bed and put the blade dangerously against a person's throat.

As swiftly as the metal pressed upon flesh, Harry's wrist was grasped in a steel grip. Long fingers pressed deeply around the bone, shooting pain through to register in Harry's dazed mind. Slowly cognizance reestablished within him, and he gazed up into glinting obsidian eyes. Suddenly he pulled away, recognizing the man before him. The grip on his wrist refused to yield, causing Harry to wrench his arm upwards defensively. As the blade he still held nearly pierced skin, the man jerked back, releasing Harry's wrist.

Stumbling slightly at the sudden freedom, Harry pressed back against a bed. Feeling a sliding of material on his skin, he glanced down, only now seeing that a sheet that had wrapped around him in his haste to stand was all he wore. Harry grasped at the linen, pulling it back up over his hips. Securing the flimsy material around his abdomen, Harry scanned the room skittishly, before turning his eyes back to the man standing in front of him.

"And a pleasure to see you as well, _Mr. Potter_." A lip curled upward in a sneer as his dark stare bored into the emerald gaze.

"Snape." Harry's voice came out husky, and his throat felt rather torn. His chest was afire, having only been closed and not yet healed. He ignored the pain in favour of regaining his bearings.

"As observant as ever, are we not?" Severus Snape scowled at the boy he had frankly hoped never to deal with again.

Shaking his head, Harry calmed himself, forcing his hand to place the dagger on the nightstand beside him. Snape's eyes followed the movement, sparking with malicious anger.

"Quite a lovely show. Do you wake this way often?" Snape silkily intoned, his voice dripping with cruel honey. That the boy had returned and that he was once more to inflict his presence upon the Potions master was dismaying; that he had threatened him, with a weapon no less, was abominable. Never mind that he had been confused, Severus gave that no care.

Unlike the years before when Snape had known him, Harry attempted no justification, just gingerly settling further against the bed. "I apologize, professor. I was uncertain of what was occurring."

"That much is apparent, boy." Snape spoke sharply, though his eyebrow raised at the apology. "Had you been aware, you would not currently be standing, I can assure you."

Harry renewed his grip on his covering, fighting an urge to roll his eyes. He again scanned around him, registering now that he was not so bewildered that he was in a room that looked familiar. Spotting his trunk near a wall, Harry realized he was back in Grimmauld Place. Sirius and Remus must have brought him back, he figured, though as to where they were now and what Snape was doing here, he had no idea. Noting that the man before him was fighting poorly concealed irritation at Harry's lack of further acknowledgment, he looked at him and forced his smirk to remain hidden.

The couple of years hadn't changed Snape much; he wore, as ever, the stiffly buttoned black robes and his ebony hair still cast his face into stark pallor. The slight wicked tilt of his lips and sharpness of his features made definite that being in his acquaintance did not bode well. Watching the man now, with his trained eye for details and loss of childhood perception, Harry realized the man carried himself with complete confidence. Snape was secure in the knowledge that he controlled his being and could maintain himself in any situation. His movements were smooth, his muscles defined where his robes stretched over them, and Harry wondered just what the man might be capable of.

Catching a shine in the vicinity of the man's side, Harry realized Snape was holding a carrier of vials, all filled what various coloured concoctions that promised distaste. Blinking, Harry looked at them for a moment before abruptly grasping why the man was there. He mentally shook himself, working to get all of his mind back to activity. Once again, Harry glanced up and met the professor's gaze. Snape's eyes glittered dangerously, but nothing else showed upon his face.

Severus refused to admit that the cool appraisal was disconcerting. The entire day had been a startling day of agitation, first the flicker he had noticed of Hogwarts wards, then the headmaster's meeting announcing the return of the bane of Snape's teaching existence. And finally, being called to administer to the intolerable boy, who had successfully managed to have a near death experience within hours of being back. In Severus' most unbiased opinion, Potter would do well to cut the near part of those events. But of course, fate was a cruel mistress and enjoyed observing the dynamic resulting from her manipulations. And so, Potter now stood before him, half nude, stoic, and faintly disturbing.

Scrutinizing the boy, Severus realized that he didn't seem the boy he remembered. His physical form had greatly matured, and he exuded more assurance than arrogance. Potter also had attained a grace, an apparent control of himself, which was seen even when working on instinct, as his smooth and swift attack with the blade had displayed. The Potions master allowed his face to sneer in memory; but the incident was intriguing. And the effortless wandless magic used to summon the dagger after such injury as Potter had sustained made Severus wish to split apart the mystery surrounding him, much as he would a new potions ingredient. The sneer modified to a smirk as he focused back upon the younger wizard.

"Now, Mr. Potter, I have been sent by the headmaster to give you these." Snape placed the carrier on the bed and selected a few vials. "Apparently your talent for trouble has generated a need for you to yet again diminish my stores."

"I assure you, professor, I wish nothing from you. I am certain I can manage." Harry stated calmly. "But perhaps you would be good enough to tell me of Remus Lupin and Sirius?"

Snape stiffened slightly, his lips thinning, before he thrust the potions he held toward Harry. "I wouldn't know where your mutts are, Potter. I'm sure they had more important things to do than watch over you, as I myself do. _So if you will_."

Harry took the bottles and placed them beside him on the bed. Eyes narrowing, Snape ground out, "If you do not _wish_ to heal, that is your business, but do not take the liberty of wasting what others may need, boy."

"I'll take the potions, Snape."

With a parting sneer, Severus swept from the room and the agitating presence of the Gryffindor golden boy. Realizing outside of the door that he had left the rest of his potions on the bed, he jerked out his wand and snarled a quick summoning charm. As the metal basket reached his hand, he continued stalking down the hall. Turning a corner he pulled up short just before running into a person. Startled blue eyes met his, and glaring at the man, Snape made to move past him.

Sirius blinked then grabbed the Potions master's arm. Severus pushed the man away, pulling his arm up out of the grip, much as Potter had from his. The thought garnered a twist of his lips, and his general disposition appeared quite murderous as he looked at his old nemesis.

"What in Salazar's name are you doing manhandling me, you despicable mongrel?"

Sirius raised his chin slightly, "Oh, shut it, Snivellus. I just wanted to know if you gave Harry those potions Albus told you to."

"I didn't realize the headmaster had set you to watch what I did, Black." Severus made to move down the hall, then turned back. "But don't worry, I did what I was bid. Not that it will do much good in Potter's poor state, I'm afraid." His lips quirked as concern lit in Black's eyes and the man strode away from him. Walking more sedately, he once again moved down the hall.

Sirius reached Harry's room in a rush, bursting through the door. Confused, he watched his godson look at him inquisitively from where he sat on the bed, a vial midway to his lips.

"You're alright," stated Sirius, then he glanced back towards the hall and narrowed his eyes. "That damned snake. Should've known." Turning back to Harry, he said, "Harry, you're awake, thank Merlin. I was so worried."

"Sirius. What's going on?" Harry asked, quickly downing the last potion and raising an eyebrow at his godfather.

"Snape acted like you were in really bad shape," Sirius explained, sitting on the edge of the bed and clasping Harry's hand. "You had been for awhile. I don't really know what was going on, you didn't have a fever or anything. But that wound was so deep and you did lose a lot of blood. Hell, you really scared all of us."

Harry smiled slightly, glancing at the bedspread before again meeting his godfather's eyes. "Sorry, Sirius. I didn't exactly mean for that to happen. And just how long has it been?"

"A little over a day."

Harry's eyes widened as he shook his head. "Damn, that took longer than I thought."

"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked, tilting his head in a manner rather reminiscent of his animal form.

"Nothing, Sirius. Look, I really need to see Dumbledore. As soon as possible."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, but nodded. "All right, I'll go send a message to him."

Harry shook his head, "No, I'd rather go see him, now." As Sirius looked to argue, Harry gestured to his still bare chest, now devoid of angry marks. "I'm fine, truly. Snape's potions completely healed everything. All I need are my clothes. Come on." He stood, still holding up the sheet.

"Okay, okay," Sirius muttered in resignation, relenting his grip on Harry's hand. "But your clothes are past repair, spells aren't good enough to remove that amount of blood. Remus managed to get you some items from the size of those, though. They're on the dresser there." He pointed to the other side of the room. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

Harry sighed and Sirius left the room accepting that as a yes. Moving over to the bureau, Harry saw a pile of clothing with his wand laying on top. Going through it, he extracted a few pieces and quickly dressed. Once done, he threw the sheet back on the bed, replaced his wand and dagger sheaths to their proper places, and twisted slightly to determine if his range of motion had returned. When nothing hurt, he picked up a light cloak and slung it over the simple brown robes he now wore. Opening the door to the bedroom, he was met with the concerned features of his godfather.

"See, all in one piece." Harry stated, smiling wryly. Sirius nodded and walked with him down the hallway, but didn't drop his worried attitude.

Harry sighed again, silently this time, and tried not to think about how he was going to explain anything to his godfather and to Remus without giving up more than he wanted to. When they reached the dank kitchen, they walked over to the fireplace. Each grabbed a pinch of Floo powder.

"Okay, now Professor Dumbledore instructed anyone coming in, to Floo to an empty room adjacent to his office. Apparently he's had to meet with some people through out the day. That way we won't land in the middle of something," Sirius stated, then gestured for his godson to go first. "Just say 'Hogwarts Private Grate'."

Harry nodded and stepped into the hearth. Once he had landed in the other grate, he moved out of the way, brushed soot off his cloak, and glanced around the room he found himself in. It seemed rather nondescript, lending to the suspicion that the headmaster didn't much use it.

With a flare, Sirius arrived and dusted himself off. After a moment, he moved to the door, which apparently had a magical means of seeing through it from their side. Moving next to his godfather, Harry gazed out the fuzzy aperture. The headmaster's office did indeed hold others, as they had been warned against. Harry stilled as he recognized the occupants. Before Dumbledore's desk stood two very familiar forms. Even through the haze of the spying charm, Harry knew the red hair of the taller student and the wavy hair of the other.

Noticing his apprehension, Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder and offered a small smile. Slowly he opened the door, allowing them time to hear the last of the conversation before revealing themselves.

"Professor, are you serious? Harry's really back?" Hermione's voice sounded slightly shaky.

"Yes, my dear, I am most serious." Dumbledore glanced at the two in the opening door and the twinkle in his eyes doubled. "But neither of you need believe me. Perhaps you'll trust your senses." With that he gestured behind the two students.

Hermione Granger spun around and stared at her long lost friend. Ron Weasley turned slowly, stiffening upon seeing Harry. Next to Harry, Sirius smiled and nudged him. Glancing at his godfather, he moved forward a couple steps. The next moment he was enveloped in a suffocating hug, blinking brown hair out of his eyes. Hermione clung hard, shaking a little as she cried. Once she was composed enough to pull back, Harry softly grinned at her, then was again strangled in an embrace.

Ron finally stepped back, gazing at his best friend. Abruptly he raised his arm and punched Harry soundly across the jaw.


	10. Foederatus

Chapter Ten- Confederates

Ron raised his arm and punched Harry soundly across the jaw.

Harry stumbled back a couple of steps, his hands fisting and his muscles coiling. Forcing his immediate reaction down, he took a deep breath and raised a still tense hand to his face.

"Wonderful to see you too, Ron."

A flicker of embarrassment flashed into the redhead's eyes, but he raised his chin and the glint became steely. He lunged for another blow, startling the others, but Harry had regained his bearings. He easily caught Ron's wrist before the punch could land, and the boy was brought up short. As Ron's eyes widened, Harry increased the grip, garnering a slight wince. Harry suddenly released his hold, realizing that it was rather similar to Snape's earlier treatment of him. Mentally shaking his head, he braced himself should Ron attack again. When the boy seemed to hesitate, Harry watched him with an eyebrow slightly quirked.

Ron stared at him, fidgeting nervously under the other wizard's intense gaze. He glanced toward Hermione, who was looking shakily between the two, before turning back to his old friend. Harry merely watched him, content with disquieting the redhead with his further lack of response.

Finally, Sirius took it upon himself to break the tense silence. "Well, that was interesting. Hello Ron, Hermione. See you've been told about Harry."

Hermione startled at his voice, then gazed at him in slight incredulity. Sirius shot a quick grin at her, and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm sure Ron didn't mean anything, Harry," Sirius stated.

"I sure as hell meant that, Sirius." Ron corrected angrily. "And I can speak for myself."

"Well, you didn't seem like you were going to. Perhaps now, though, you'll tell me why in Myrddin's name you hit me," said Harry, pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes and leaning his weight to the left.

"I . . . who?" Ron asked, confused.

Hermione glanced at him sharply. "You aren't saying you don't know who Myrddin is, Ron! You're a seventh year! Not to mention a wizard-born. Honestly, that is just wrong." She shook her head with a chastising look. "That was another name for Merlin, of course. Not often used in the current age. Typically only used in old literature, not in speaking." She glanced at Harry, who merely looked at her mildly.

Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "Who cares? Really, Hermione, this isn't the time," he sneered at her, though he still glared at Harry.

"Ron. What is wrong with you?" Harry questioned. "I know this is a shock, but really, I thought you would take it better. As in, not attack me."

Ron shifted, glancing to the side, then back at Harry. "I, er, well, damn." He let out a hard breath, staring Harry in the eyes. "You were gone for two bloody years, Harry. Two years! And you never let us even know you were alive!"

Harry glanced over Ron's shoulder to Dumbledore, who was seated in his chair, watching them. "I don't know how much the headmaster told you . . ."

"Oh, don't give me that you couldn't!" Ron exclaimed, cutting Harry off abruptly. "For _safety_. That's a load of sod." Ron snorted, tightening his crossed arms. "Like you couldn't have done something. Anything to let us know you were not dead or tortured or whatever! You never bothered with following rules before. I thought you cared about us!"

Harry stiffened, narrowing his eyes. "Of course, I care about you, all of you, you brazen simpleton. Don't you dare presume to tell me what I should have done. You have absolutely no idea of what I went through. And there wasn't a day I didn't wish to return, or contact someone. Now, I find I rather miss where I was." The last was said as an afterthought.

Ron dropped his arms to his sides, and answered in a hiss, "Then go back there, _mate_, if this is so bad. Hope you have a nice life." With that he pushed past

Sirius, who looked rather surprised. The door to the office slammed after Ron's retreat.

Harry sighed and closed his eyes. He felt Sirius place his hand back on his shoulder, from where it had been removed. Sighing once more, he looked at Hermione, who was somewhat pale.

"You can go after him, Hermione. It's all right."

She turned her gaze on him. "No, Harry. I'm staying for now. Just, just . . . what happened?"

Harry rubbed a hand over his eyes and asked, "What have you already been told?"

"That you were rescued from, er, where you were, and taken to some arcane stronghold of wizards. That they are very secretive, and for safety, you couldn't contact anyone. And you continued your education with them, until you could return."

"That's all we've been told, as well," Sirius said.

"That is all I can say, to anyone." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, then dropped his hand.

"But . . ." Sirius started.

"But nothing. Sirius, I explained. Hermione, it is too dangerous. Neither of you understand, there are things that have to be, in order to save lives. I'm sorry."

"We can't understand if you don't tell us."

"Then you aren't meant to understand right now." Harry shrugged off his godfather's hand, and looked at the headmaster.

Hermione gazed at her friend, her mind in overdrive. She knew something was going on, but she didn't want anything to happen if she found out what that was. Finally, she sighed and nodded. She vowed to herself that she would find out when possible, but for now she'd accept it. Harry turned to her at her movement. He offered a small smile, one she noticed was not shown very strongly in his eyes, not like before when she had known him. Hermione stepped forward once again and embraced him. He returned it tightly.

"I'm glad you're back, Harry," she whispered, backing away afterwards. "No matter what. And so is Ron, he just . . ."

"I know, Hermione. He'll deal or he won't, we can't do anything about it." Harry gave her another smile. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, you too." She glanced around. "Well, I better go, Potions starts in a bit."

Harry shot her a sympathetic look. "You probably shouldn't be late for that. Snape, er, Professor Snape hasn't changed much in two years."

"You've seen him?"

"Unfortunately."

Hermione gave him an exasperated glance, but chuckled, as did the older wizards. She patted Harry's arm, smiled and waved at the others as she left the office.

Once the door closed, Harry and Sirius moved over to the headmaster's desk. He greeted them cheerfully and offered them seats, which they took easily.

"Well, to what can I owe this visit, my boys?" Albus asked, smiling.

"Harry wanted to see you, Albus. Said it was important, though I thought he should have stayed in bed," Sirius groused, glancing toward his godson.

Harry shook his head. "Sirius, I said I was fine. Anyway, headmaster, I need to speak with you." He locked eyes with the eldest in the room, running a hand over his cheek to his neck, then raised his eyebrows.

Albus nodded, noticing Harry's gesture. Rightly figuring it meant that they needed privacy, he turned to Sirius. "Sirius, can I ask you to tell the other teachers that Harry is well? I hadn't the chance since Severus told me, and I'm sure they would like to know."

Sirius nodded, and glanced at Harry. "Okay, I'll be back in a while then. You'll be all right, Harry?"

"Honestly, what do you think, Sirius?" Harry answered, smirking. Sirius shot him a glare, then a smile, and left the room.

Once they were alone, Albus gazed at the younger wizard. "Is this about the attack? Because I have no idea how Voldemort knew you were back, let alone where you were."

"Partly. And I might have some idea."

"Oh, well, go on."

"I suppose Sirius and Remus explained about the fight?" Harry questioned, taking some tea that the headmaster held toward him.

"Actually, I watched the incident in a Pensieve. I trust you remember those?"

"Quite." Harry smiled, sipping his tea. "Well, then you heard everything and saw how the attack was coordinated. Malfoy didn't really say anything, except that he was there because of my return. Which means Tom sent him. But what was interesting was the attack itself."

Albus leaned back in his chair and nodded. "Yes, most unusual. Voldemort's followers don't often act as they did."

"Exactly. Besides Lucius, who was clearly a scout, the others used muggle techniques. At least what most wizards consider as such. I mean, daggers? And there spaced arrivals. I don't remember studying attacks of death eaters like that from the first round with Tom."

Albus raised an eyebrow and noted Harry's use of the Dark Lord's given name. Taking a drink from his own cup, he listened as Harry went on.

"They were skilled with the weapons, much better than if they were unfamiliar with them. They've been taught, and I can't see Tom doing that. And then there was the mental plane."

Setting his cup down in its saucer, Albus leaned forward. "Mental plane?"

Harry nodded grimly. "It seems Tom quite easily tapped back into our connection. Whilst unconscious, we met in this odd chamber. He appeared just as I realized it wasn't physical and that it wasn't only mine."

"Well, that explains some." Albus looked considering. "Once Sirius and Remus returned to Grimmauld Place with you, we had Poppy Pomfrey heal your wound, as it wasn't safe to move you. She was able to close it, though we had to wait for Severus to brew potions to take care of it. You were calm for a long while, though we couldn't wake you, then started convulsing. Your pulse and such was increasingly sporadic. Severus had gone with his potions just as she and Sirius came to tell me to get someone from St. Mungos."

Harry nodded. "Yes, that would be when Tom decided to show me his skill with the mental pain. Not my idea of a good time. My power sent us from the plane before he could kill me. We landed in our bodies. But that wasn't all."

The headmaster gazed at him, raising an eyebrow in question. "What was it?"

"We had time to speak, before his little show. From what I could get out, he has a source. A realm jumping source."

Albus blinked, leaning forward once again. "How do you know?"

Harry sighed. "He indicated that he knew of my doings in the other realm. I said that his sources must have been mistaken, but he said they were never wrong. Therefore stating he had some."

Bringing his cup once more to his lips, Albus' gaze unfocused as he thought. The two men sat in silence for a moment, before the headmaster spoke. "That explains how he knew of your return, unless it was through your scar."

"Couldn't be," Harry said, shaking his head. "I have mental shields that block things like that, the plane was as much mine as his, that was why we could meet there. But he can't sense me. Possibly his source can, that is all I can guess about how he knew of Diagon Alley. And it's likely that the source is not human."

"Most like. Jumping is too rare in humans; possibly a Vampyr?" Albus questioned, though he didn't expect an answer.

Harry looked around the office, then gazed at the headmaster. "We can be sure of one thing. Any of his allies do not bode well for us."


	11. Conloquium

Chapter Eleven- Parley

"Any of his allies do not bode well for us."

The mood remained somber in the headmaster's office as he and Harry discussed the occurrences of the day before. And as they reviewed the events twice more. Neither had any more insight, at least any that they volunteered. Harry knew that Dumbledore may well have knowledge that he was keeping close to the chest, but he wasn't overly concerned. He would figure out what he needed on his own, just as always. At least the man had explained that he had slightly modified both Sirius' and Remus' memories regarding the fight, so Harry had no worries about his abilities. While not altogether ethical, Harry overlooked it, thinking that he wasn't really one to talk about scruples.

Finally deciding not to continue their pointless reiterations, he changed topics.

"Headmaster, I had a couple of questions regarding the Order of the Phoenix. The others would only tell me so much, not that I expected more."

Albus smiled and capped off their tea cups. "Of course, what do you want to know?"

Harry fought an urge to raise an eyebrow at the easy tone of the older wizard. He thought for a moment about how to proceed, lifting his tea to his lips and drinking. After a moment, he put the cup back down on its saucer and leaned forward.

"I've been told what the Order does, the basics at any rate. What I would like to know, is what has it been doing? What has occurred? You never had the chance to say, earlier."

"Well, yes." The headmaster leaned back in his seat with a nod of his head. "These past two years have been rather busy. You see, we, as in the Order, had already reconvened by the time you disappeared. In fact, we met soon after your Third Task in the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry smiled grimly. "Yes, I remember you saying something about 'the old crowd'. I suppose this is what you meant." It wasn't really a question.

Albus nodded. "Soon as possible, we met and began working against Voldemort's advances. You can guess what we did- organizing informants, informing the public of his return (as much as was possible), trying to usurp any position he gained, acquiring new recruits to the Order. Nothing spectacular in the beginning. We worked that summer, and also kept a watch over you. I assume you remember how that turned out."

"Oh, yes. Beautifully." Harry rolled his eyes with a wry grin. "I did always love dementors."

Albus chuckled. "Yes, well, the aurors that removed you from Privet Drive were Order members. I felt it better at the time to keep you away from the movement." The headmaster ignored the tightening of Harry's lips. "So, as you remember, you went to the Burrow. Your hearing passed without major issue, and you were with your friends, in general safety."

"And in the presence of at least two Order members, right? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are no doubt a part?"

"Yes, they both were, as well as the two eldest of the children," Dumbledore answered.

Harry sat up straight. "Wait . . . Were? What do you mean?" he questioned quickly.

Albus glanced down into his tea, before raising his eyes to Harry's concerned ones. "I am afraid Arthur Weasley was killed just before the Christmas after you disappeared. Molly is still well, and is still part of the Order."

Harry let out a slightly shaky breath. "How?"

"He was guarding something at the Ministry one night. The record of the Prophecy, actually. We had found out that Voldemort was after it," said Albus carefully. "Voldemort sent a snake into the passageway, attempting to get through the doors into the lower levels, and the serpent attacked Arthur. The wound was bad and the corridor deserted; he wasn't found until the morning."

Harry left his seat and moved to a window, gazing unseeingly across the grounds. "I imagine the other Weasleys didn't take it well."

"No, they were very upset. It was a hard time for everyone. And the Ministry claimed it was a loose animal from the Magical Creature division."

"Was he the first casualty in the Order?"

"Yes."

Sighing, Harry walked back to his chair and sat down. When he looked at the headmaster, no emotion was seen in his eyes. Briefly, guilt ran through Harry's thoughts, but he quickly let reason replace it. It was a trick he'd learned by necessity.

"What else?" The question encompassed a great many things, all which Harry had to brace himself to hear.

"We have lost others, but the amount is less than the number we have taken down," stated Dumbledore. _A leader can always note the big picture and disregard the small_, Harry thought. _Why am I so upset that I do the same thing?_

The headmaster went on, "For a year the Ministry maintained that Voldemort had not risen, making our job that much harder. But at least the Death Eaters kept damage to a minimum. Voldemort finally grew impatient, and in June of that next year, sent his followers to retrieve the Prophecy. He eventually came after them to get it when they couldn't, and an alarm went off. The Order confronted them, catching some significant members, and a duel took place in the Atrium. Quite destroyed that foolish fountain, I'm sure you remember it?"

Harry nodded, staring to the left of the headmaster. Albus ignored his apparent distraction, instinctively knowing that the boy was listening intently. "Well, of course that was when the Ministry workers arrived, including Cornelius Fudge, and upon seeing Voldemort, they could no longer say he wasn't back. Caused quite a panic, but Voldemort held off for a while before attacking openly. Wanted things to be to his advantage. In that time, the Order was working against him, with the Ministry's support." Albus cleared his throat. "Yes, well, we also had our own edge. We had captured some of his highest standing men. I would guess that you recall Peter Pettigrew?" He didn't need to wait for an answer. "With him, Sirius was granted a full pardon, though he wasn't given compensation because of his 'crimes' of escaping and remaining free. Fudge was rather proud of that decision, wouldn't listen to a word against it."

Shaking his head, Harry snorted to himself. _Someone really needs to do something about that asinine fool_. He finally spoke up. "So Sirius was pardoned. I had figured as much, given that he was out and about, but hadn't a chance to ask how. Is Wormtail in Azkaban? And the others that you had caught?"

Shifting in his seat, the headmaster narrowed his eyes angrily. "No, the Ministry failed to remove the Dementors as guards. It took little for them to revolt, allowing the prisoners to escape. Pettigrew and others, including Nott, MacNair, Malfoy." The names the headmaster said were almost just to himself, seemingly in rage that such men could be free.

Harry tensed at them, his jaw taut as he resisted a shudder. He fought the memories and leaned hard against the back of his chair. His act was good enough that Dumbledore seemed not to notice, but it took a moment for Harry to force himself back into composure. Shifting his shoulders slightly, he concentrated once more on the headmaster's voice.

"After all of that, attacks started occurring in various locations around England. The Order has been doing what we can to combat them. Last year, on the winter solstice, an entire village in Devon was destroyed. And other assaults have generated terrible, if not as devastating, results." The headmaster sighed, rubbing a hand down his beard. "As of now, we have little idea as to Voldemort's current agenda. Our sources haven't been able to gather much, just that something major is in the works. Not exactly what you were hoping to hear, was it?"

Sighing as well, Harry shook his head. "No, but all in all, what I expected. I had heard of attacks, just not the extent." He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. "I know that Tom has started in on various creatures. Trying to get allies and such. Heard it from some Jumpers. Apparently, he has had mixed results. Some are worried about his pure-blooded wizard stance, thinking he won't give them the proper respect. He underestimates non-humans, doesn't realize just what they can do. Gives us a chance, if we can step in, but with the Ministry as it is . . ." Harry broke off with a slight shrug.

Nodding, the headmaster looked at the younger wizard. Harry merely returned the gaze with a solemn smile. They had sat in their own thoughts for a long minute when Harry suddenly glanced towards the office door. Albus blinked, before he felt the pulse of the office wards alerting him to someone alighting the spiral staircase. After a moment, the two wizards heard raised voices coming closer.

". . . dare you do that, you blasted Slytherin! What a low move, even for a snake!" Sirius' voice was furious, and Harry suspected, could be heard through the castle.

"Go back to your doghouse, mutt." The sneering growl confirmed Harry's suspicions of who his godfather was angry at. "Don't you have a stick to fetch or something? Perhaps a need to walk your pet wolf, or should I say your bit . . ."

A loud thump echoed into the office as something solid struck the door. Harry grimaced slightly as he stood, realizing that it was definitely a body. Sounds of a scuffle were muffled through the solid wood, but were easily identifiable.

"Get off of me, you demented canine!" Snape's snarl was cut off before he could continue by a sharp crack. Harry recognized the sound of a punch.

Quickly crossing the office, with the headmaster on his heels, Harry pulled out his wand. Flicking it at the entrance, the latch clicked open and the door swung inward, hard. Two figures fell into the room, struggling against each other. Harry fought an outright laugh at the sight, instead glancing at Dumbledore, who also had his wand out.

He nodded at the elder wizard, who leveled his wand at the men, as Harry did the same. With a sharply incanted spell, the men flew into the air. Both the headmaster and Harry waved their wands, catching the other wizards in the air as they were propelled away from one another.

"What a wonderful surprise! Two members of my staff, grappling at my door." Albus leveled a sharp glare at the two men, though his lips quirked slightly.

Harry turned to the headmaster, letting Sirius fall toward the floor from a considerable height as his concentration waned. An alarmed yell had Harry waving his wand up again, taking his godfather back into the air.

Before either floating man could speak, Harry addressed his companion intercessor. "What do you mean 'two of your staff', Headmaster?"

Albus turned to him, letting Snape slip slightly as well before catching him, though the Potions master only tensed instead of crying out. "Oh, yes. Sirius is Hogwarts newest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, along with Remus Lupin."


	12. Perplexus

Chapter Twelve- Maundering

"Sirius is Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, along with Remus Lupin."

Harry was sightly startled. "Really? I'm surprised the Ministry is allowing it."

"Well," stated the headmaster, "they had little choice in the matter. And at any rate, they haven't much been forcing their influence upon us, not since it was found that Voldemort was truly back."

"Ah, I see. I assume before that, that they were rather . . . pushing for their way?"

Albus snorted slightly. "You could say that. They even forced their own DADA professor into the position. Called herself 'Hogwarts Inquisitor'."

"You're jesting. A witch had the nerve to call herself that?" Harry shook his head. "Honestly, I knew most from the Ministry were fools, but apparently it's worse than I thought."

"Yes, truly." The headmaster was smiling in amusement. "One can only guess what next the Ministry will play at. Oh, I probably shouldn't say any more, I wouldn't want to set an example of disparaging the government." He smiled innocently, causing Harry to laugh lightly.

"Don't worry, I won't tell." Harry grinned winsomely and it was Albus' turn to chuckle.

A low growl from overhead drew the two grounded wizards' attentions upward. Harry clenched his jaw shut to stop his laughter at the enraged scowl upon the Potions master's face. The man was glaring holes of fire onto the tops of their heads, his arms crossed, and his body tense. Turning slightly, Harry saw that his godfather was equally angry, but was alternating between glowering at both the men on the floor and at Snape.

Harry glanced at the headmaster with an eyebrow raised. When the man nodded, still smiling, Harry waved his wand in a small arc, lowering Sirius to the ground. As soon as both he and Snape were level, the animagus took a step toward the other. Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed the man's arm in a hard grip. _Reminds me of . . . okay, not thinking of them. It's easier that way. That's not my home,_ he thought forcefully. _Yeah, right. Damn._

Forcing himself back to the present, Harry smiled at his godfather, but didn't release his hold, even as the man pulled away. Harry raised his eyebrows in question, and when the man sighed and nodded, finally let go. As he turned back to the headmaster, Harry noticed Sirius rub his arm with a wince, but didn't offer an apology. Glancing at Snape, he noticed the man watching him with a narrowed gaze. Harry tilted his head inquisitively, but the Potions master quickly looked away. _Odd, that one. Not exactly how I remembered him, though._ Pushing that aside, Harry looked to Dumbledore.

The headmaster gestured them toward his desk, indicating they should sit. Once he was seated himself, he addressed the two professors before him. "Now, I trust we won't have a recurrence of this? It is not a way I wish my staff to behave."

"My apologies, Albus," said Sirius quickly, as though to speak first. "I wasn't going to put up what that snake's comments and I . . . lost my head."

"Mind, more like. If he ever had one," Snape muttered under his breath, though Harry heard him easily enough. He threw a quick glare at the man, and noticed Dumbledore doing the same. On Harry's other side, Sirius sat stiffly but calmly, apparently not having heard.

Stifling a sigh, Albus looked at his Potions master. "Severus?"

"I apologize for any thing that was uncalled for, but I am not sorry for defending myself against a rabid animal." Snape sat straight and crossed his arms.

Placing a restraining hand back on Sirius' arm, Harry looked angrily at Snape. "That remark was uncalled for."

Snape turned a sneer on the younger wizard. "I would thank you not to dictate my actions, Potter. You may not yet be back in school, but I will still remove points."

"Severus, that is quite enough." The headmaster found himself fighting against an urge to roll his eyes. "Come now, let us stop. I assume you came here for a reason?"

Snape nodded curtly. "Yes, headmaster. I came to tell you that I have assembled the exam you requested for Mr. Potter."

"Already?" asked Albus, surprised.

"Oh, yes. It wasn't that difficult. On my part, at least." The sneer that had seemed permanently etched on the Potions master's face modified to a singularly evil smirk.

Sirius glared at his associate, and sent a slightly sympathetic look toward his godson. Harry didn't bother acting very upset, though he did force himself to contain a smirk of his own. He'd expected Snape to come up with the worst possible test, but the man had no idea just how studied Harry was. _This will be interesting. Wonder how much I show the man up without risking my cover?_

"Well, in that case. Harry, when would you like to take it?" questioned the headmaster.

Harry affected a slightly apprehensive expression. "I guess any time's good. Er, I mean, whenever."

Albus nodded, inwardly smiling at the younger wizard's antics. He was rather anticipating the result of this, both to see what Harry had learned, but also how he handled himself. "Excellent. Severus, you're free, are you not? I'm sure you could oversee it now, since you don't have any more classes this afternoon. Would that be acceptable?"

Clenching his jaw, Severus nodded. _As if I actually have any say in the matter,_ he thought, though the bitterness wasn't as strong as one might expect. However, he wasn't about to go without pressing the issue slightly. "I still stand by what I said at the meeting yesterday, headmaster. The boy hasn't even taken the OWL exams, I really do not think he should be allowed such leeway as to possibly enter higher classes."

Sirius scowled and leaned forward. Harry once more grabbed the man's arm, sending him an exasperated glance. Shaking off the hand, Sirius nonetheless offered a sheepish smile. Harry shook his head slightly and waited for the headmaster's reply.

"Well, Severus, I see your point, but that will quickly be taken care of. I've already petitioned the Ministry for the exams to be given to Harry," stated Albus and Harry contained a shocked look. "And in the meantime, if he's qualified, he should be in the proper classes. Besides, we wouldn't want him to have to remain in school longer than necessary, would we?"

That prospect had the desired effect of quieting Snape's objections. Harry sniggered inwardly at the slight paling of the Potions master's face. _I guess that this isn't exactly fair to him. Probably had been hoping never to see me again, and now, well . . ._ Harry thought, now forcing down a laugh.

"Wait a minute," interjected Sirius. "It isn't really fair to force Harry into a test so quickly. He was deathly injured yesterday, for Merlin's sake! And he has just returned, hasn't studied . . ."

"Sirius," Harry interrupted, ignoring Snape's sneer at Sirius' concern, "it's fine, I'm all right. And really, I do want to get back into things as soon as possible."

Sirius looked at him with his brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore spoke up. "Well, then, it's all set. Severus, why don't you take Harry back to your classroom for the test?" The Potions master nodded once. "Wonderful. Sirius, don't worry, I'm sure Harry's fine, aren't you, Harry?" The headmaster's twinkling gaze rested on the younger wizard, who nodded quickly. "See? You know, Sirius, Severus' potions took care of Harry's wound quite well. It would have taken much longer to heal without them."

Harry smirked at Dumbledore's blatant attempt to cure some of the animosity between the two men, but thought it was a lost cause. When Sirius only scowled, and Snape sneered in return, the headmaster sighed. Harry offered him an understanding smile and stood up, turning to Snape.

"I'm ready, Professor, if you want."

Snape jerked a nod at Harry and stood up, sweeping out of the room. Harry shrugged and waved farewell to the other wizards, following the man through the door. As it closed, he heard Sirius asking how wise it was to let him be alone with Snape. Harry grinned and shook his head. As he reached the bottom of the stairwell, he quickened his pace to match the Potions master's long strides.

Though Harry looked around as he walked, the journey to the dungeons was silent and quick, and surprisingly, they saw no one on the way. Harry realized that classes must be in progress, and found he was grateful. After his earlier reunion, he didn't really want to deal with any more, even though he knew he would have to. _Like I haven't dealt with difficult people at school,_ he thought. _No one here can be as bad as some of the Vampyrs and such at the Academy._ But glancing at the tense back of the man before him, he had to amend that thought. _Well, at least he doesn't bite. Most likely._ He forced himself to concentrate on the walk as he almost fell on a trick stair. Snape didn't bother to slow down.

Pulling up to a door in a hallway Harry didn't recognize, Snape stopped and flicked his wand, unlocking it. He swiftly walked inside and Harry followed, finding himself in a lab classroom. Wondering why the Potions' classroom had been moved, he stepped to the front, stopping near a desk.

Snape kept his back to Harry, moving to his desk and removing a large scroll from the top of a pile of parchment. As he turned and handed it to the younger wizard, he sneered, "If you were wondering, the room was changed because of an 'accident' of one of your ilk. A Gryffindor. The ceiling and floor collapsed in." Harry winced slightly, and Snape continued. "You will take your practical exam as soon as you are finished with the written, and I must ask you not to do the same to this room. I'm sure the headmaster would be most displeased if you were injured, though I can't see why. And I would rather not have to move the class, yet again. Understand?"

Harry nodded curtly and took the proffered test. Walking over to a desk, he saw that it had both a quill and ink upon it. He glanced back at the professor, who gestured sharply for him to get on with it, and sat down. Removing the string binding the scroll, Harry opened it and proceeded to read.

_1. What are the properties and ingredients of the Polyjuice potion, and in which order are the ingredients added? Explain how each element forms and affects the results._

Harry hid a grin and quickly began writing. Though he had personal experience with the first potion from long ago, he found the rest of the questions just as facile. The training he had undergone in Alchemy was clearly more than was given at Hogwarts, and he had to force himself to answer as though it wasn't.

Keeping an eye on Snape, who was grading papers, Harry kept a slow pace in writing. He waited until he saw the man glance at him in impatience twice, before letting himself finish. Once he was done, he wrapped the parchment up and looked at the Professor. Though the man clearly knew he was finished, the Potions Master ignored him, continuing to grade papers for a while, before finally acknowledging him.

Harry quickly gave him the scroll, knowing it was well done, yet not revealing of his abilities, and read the instructions Snape handed him for the practical. Still reading, he moved over to the student supplies and selected a cauldron and utensils. Going over to the cupboard of ingredients, he placed the parchment in a pocket of his robes, smirking inwardly. The potion he had been instructed to make was one he was very familiar with, having made it at the Academy, though Snape wasn't to know that. He easily picked out the correct items for it, all from memory, and walked back to his station.

Once everything was set out and his hair pulled back, Harry picked up a knife, slicing the first herb. Feeling that he was being watched, he secretly glanced at the professor, seeing the man stare at him. As he moved, Harry realized that Snape was observing his hand with the knife, narrowing his gaze as he noticed how readily Harry handled it. Remembering that it was hardly hours from when he had threatened the Potions master with a dagger, Harry knew that the man was getting suspicious of what he could do.

Not wanting him to gather that he was trained with a blade, though he may well have already, Harry lost his grip and dropped the knife to the floor. Picking it up and walking to the sink to wash it, as cleaning charms weren't to be used if it could be helped, Harry jabbed himself lightly in the leg with the blade, just enough not to draw blood. Letting out an exclamation, he put the knife on the sink and checked his leg, as though looking for a wound. When he apparently found none, he washed the knife and went back to his seat. Noticing that the man was still looking at him, Harry was careful to appear less steady as he made the potion.

As the concoction simmered for a few minutes, he saw that Snape was acting as though he was reading the essays he was correcting, but that his eyes were still darting to Harry. Figuring that the man was not going to fall for such tricks, not for long, Harry realized that he would need to follow some other tactic. Carefully bottling his potion after it was done, he decided on his course of action.

If there was one thing he knew of the man, it was that he had a quick temper. And that, for Harry at least, it was easy to trigger it. Harry had learned these past two years that when angered, people were less apt to cogitate, were less willing to. Putting that knowledge to use, he walked up to the professor.

"Professor," he said, rather louder than needed. "I'm done. What should I do with the vial?"

Still looking at his papers, Snape sneered, and Harry thought he heard the man mutter something about exactly where to put it. When the man finally turned his scathing gaze on him, Harry merely smiled, slightly inanely.

Snape blinked, then his sneer intensified as he saw Harry hold out the bottle. "On the desk. Then clean up, Potter. You will get marked down if you do it sloppily."

"Of course, Professor. What ever you say." With that he put down the vial and went back to his desk.

Clearing the remains of his potion, Harry picked up tools he had used to make it and dumped them in the cauldron. Noticing Snape's grimace, he sniggered inwardly, picking up the pot and turning away. Reaching the sink, he suddenly let go of the handle, dropping it with a loud bang and clanging of metal.

"What do you think you are doing, Potter?!" Snape ground out, standing up from his chair.

Plastering on an apologetic expression, Harry turned quickly. "Sorry, Professor, it slipped."

Snape scowled, but sat back down. Harry quickly cleaned everything up, and went back to his station. He picked up the left over ingredients, handling them quite roughly, garnering an enraged look from the Potions master. Harry put them away and stood before the professor, deciding that maybe adding a bit of confusion would help his plan. He ignored the door of the classroom opening, as Snape spoke.

"Potter, treat the items like that again and you will never make another Potion in this school," Snape stated caustically.

With a very sincere expression, Harry replied easily, "Yes, Professor. But what's that have to do with the price of a broomstick?"

Snape blinked, a look of confusion on his face. "What was that, Potter?"

"Keep your broomstick on the ice, Professor." Harry smiled brightly at the older wizard.

Staring incredulously at him, Snape stood up, anger joining his confusion. "Are you mad, Potter?!"

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Perhaps. Are you?"

Before the Potions master could respond, Harry waved goodbye and jogged out of the room, passing a pale, stunned figure near the door. Giving a faintly odd smile, he nodded to Draco Malfoy, who gaped after him, as he strode through the exit. Stopping outside the door, just far enough not to be detected, Harry listened to the wizards left in his wake.

"Was . . . was that Potter? As in Golden Boy Potter?!" Malfoy exclaimed, though it was muffled as though he had turned to face his Head of House.

"According to the headmaster." Snape's voice sounded quite off balance.

"Did he just tell you to keep your broomstick on ice?" Now the younger Slytherin sounded more incredulous than shocked.

"I believe so," Snape said, with a confused inflection, but it was growing angrier.

A breath was taken, then Malfoy asked, "And that something didn't have to do with the price of one?"

"Yes." That word was said sharply.

"Where has he been, St. Mungos?" questioned Malfoy, sounding like he was shaking his head. "If not, he should be."

Harry didn't hear the reply as the door was abruptly shut and warded. But he still couldn't help smirking as he walked away.


	13. Repetere

Chapter Thirteen- Resuming

Harry couldn't help smirking as he walked away.

Keeping to the shadows, Harry swiftly made his way back to the headmaster's office. He was well trained in remaining unseen, could do so at will, and none he passed had a vague notion he had been near them. As he skirted the edge of the front hall, his steps faltered, his expression shuttered, and he took in a deep breath.

Forcefully he made himself turn and continue through the school, leaving behind him so many of the people he had once thought not to see again. He heard laughter and gossip running from student to student, as they made their way to the Great Hall, and heard the teachers calling warnings to the loudest. Rubeus Hagrid's voice sounded loudly, and rather than think of his friend, Harry quickened his pace.

Travel became easier when he got to hallways that had already cleared of people, and he sighed as he slowed his footsteps. He ran a hand along the stone wall, feeling the cool stone that was at once so familiar and so forgotten. When he reached a large window facing the front lawn, Harry allowed himself to halt. Gazing over the shaded grounds, a bitter smile quirked his lips. _Home._

Finally he turned from the view and walked somberly to the stone guardian and up the spiral stairs. He had barely raised his hand to knock on the thick door when it swung open. Walking in, he was greeted cheerfully.

"Well, my boy!" called Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "And how was it, as dreadful as expected?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and offered a wry grin. "Of course, Headmaster."

"Yes, well, I'm sure you did just fine. I see you are still in one piece. Your godfather was rather worried about that." Albus chuckled as he took a sip from his teacup.

Glancing at Sirius who sat with a miffed expression, Harry grinned. "I'm sure if I was in more than one part, it would be only because of my terrible grasp of Potions. Despicable things, really. Slimy."

Sirius nodded whole-heartedly, his face clearing of all negative emotion. "Quite right, Harry."

Before Sirius could go on, the fireplace flared and Remus Lupin stepped out slightly unsteadily. Regaining his balance and brushing soot off his robes, Remus smiled at them.

"Doing better, Harry?" he asked, clapping a hand to the younger wizard's shoulder.

Harry nodded with a lift of the lips, and Remus squeezed his arm before letting go. The werewolf dropped into a chair close to Sirius with a casual grace. He reached over and took Sirius' teacup, downing a long sip from it. Handing it back to the Animagus, he smirked widely at his partner's vexed look.

"Everything is set, Albus," Remus stated, turning to the headmaster.

"Excellent," responded Dumbledore. Then to Harry, he explained, "I felt that for the next few days, while you took your placement exams, you would stay at Grimmauld Place with Sirius and Remus. They're living there anyway, for the time being, since the person that is substituting for them is remaining until the end of the week. Is that acceptable? Might give you more of a chance to catch up, without resulting in major injuries." Albus smiled, and Harry raised his brow in a playful petulant expression, before it changed to a grin.

Harry then nodded, recognizing the headmaster's gesture for what it was- a way to ease back in to school, and get used to everything.

Dumbledore nodded once and looked at each of the wizards before him in turn. "Wonderful. Now, Harry, the other teachers have assured me that the exams will be ready tomorrow or the next day, so if you would merely Floo in here in the morning," he said, and Harry nodded again.

"Great," said Sirius, standing up. "Since that is set, Remus, Harry, why don't we head to Grimmauld Place? I, for one, am rather hungry."

"You're always hungry, Padfoot," groused Remus, but he stood as well, placing a hand at the small of Sirius' back.

Harry met the headmaster's amused gaze with his own, and shook his head. After a quick farewell, the three younger wizards moved over to the fireplace. Remus and Sirius swiftly went through. Albus halted Harry as he reached for the powder canister.

"Just a moment, my boy," he called. "Harry, would you mind releasing the stasis spell? As much as I've loved the rare quiet, I find myself bereft of company, and actually missing the annoyance of the sounds."

Flashing a slightly sheepish look, Harry quickly said, "Of course, Headmaster. Slipped my mind." Pulling out his wand, he muttered, "_Consistere Finite_."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "What is the incantation for the spell itself? I find I could definitely use it."

Harry grinned. "_Consistere_ _Adhuc Mora_. Wave the wand in an arc to encompass what needs it."

"Curious. Very curious."

Harry blinked. "Are you friends with Mr. Ollivander?"

Albus refocused on him. "Yes, but why do you ask?"

"No reason. What's curious?"

The headmaster watched him for a moment with a furrowed brow. Finally shaking his head, he answered, "Only that I had heard of part of that spell from long ago, but can't remember ever learning it."

Harry nodded. "It was found in an old text, something from before Hogwarts' founder's time, I think. The Academy was one of the few places anywhere to teach it."

"Ah." Albus stroked a hand down his beard. "Well, I've held you up long enough. Good evening."

"Good evening." Harry stepped into the hearth, the green flames whipping him away as he heard the confused portraits questioning the sighing headmaster.

Landing readily in the other grate with a smile, he stepped out to see the concerned faces of the others.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed, sighing in relief. "What took so long? I knew you should have gone before me."

Harry fought down a flash of annoyance. "The headmaster wanted a quick word, that's all."

"Oh. Okay, well, just be careful."

Harry pasted a smile across his lips and nodded. As he turned away, he gave in to the urge to roll his eyes. He moved over to the table and only then, looked back at the other men. Remus walked over and sat down, gesturing for Harry to as well.

"Ignore him, he's just . . ."

"Over-protective? Smothering?"

"Worried." Remus shook his head. "You know, it is hard for any of us not to be, what with you only coming back yesterday. Not to mention our little trip's abrupt ending." He turned to Sirius. "Speaking of which, I can't remember everything about it. It's kind of hazy. Is it to you?" Harry maintained an innocent expressing, also looking at his godfather.

"No," Sirius answered, his mood clearly disgruntled.

Remus sighed. "Sirius, get over it. Come on, let's make dinner. No Harry, you relax, we'll do it." He pushed Harry back into his seat.

Fortunately, Lupin dropped the subject of the fight. Harry knew that memory charms only worked so well on magical creatures, even werewolves, and wasn't in the mood to make up another story to appease Remus' curiosity.

Dinner was an amiable affair, none of the group wishing to continue with any irritation toward one another. Conversation remained light, and for the most part, awkwardness was avoided. After supper, the group retired to a drawing room, and the two older wizards regaled Harry with stories from the past couple years, and even a few from their school days. Refusing to let in melancholy emotions, Harry was free to enjoy the time. Before they realized it, the clock struck ten.

"Blimey, I didn't know it was so late," Sirius muttered, glancing at the large grandfather timepiece near the mantel. "You really should get some rest, Harry. Considering your exams."

Harry sighed in exasperation, but agreed and bid the others good night. Once he was back in the room he had woken up in earlier, as that was the one Sirius told him to use, he pulled the bind from his hair and ran a hand through it. He wasn't used to being parented, he really wasn't. While he could understand that they meant well, Harry knew that he was going to have a time putting up with it.

Quickly, he discarded his robes and pulled off his shirt. Clad only in his trousers, he walked over to a large looking-glass.

"Well, you are a nice little thing, aren't you?" teased the high pitched voice of the mirror.

Raising an eyebrow, Harry waved his hand with a muttered spell. Instantly the giggling the thing had started, ceased. Shaking his head, he sighed again. Then he ran a hand over the slight white scar across his chest, tracing it over his ribs. Glancing behind him, he flicked his wrist, incanting a warding spell over the door, windows, and mirror. Once sure no one would see, he muttered another incantation.

Swiftly the Glamour charm fell away, a touch of blue light running down his body. Behind it left a number of equally light scars, barely noticeable unless one was rather close. His eyes trailed up his reflection to his tattoos, the phoenix showing especially bright. He found himself very glad he had done a full body concealing spell, so that he didn't have to explain just where the marks came from to anyone who had seen him unclothed. And that the variation was one which did show any wounds received after putting it on, otherwise, that really would have been difficult to explain. _Considering_ _besides myself, the only ones that have a hope of dispelling the charm are a little far away_, Harry thought.

Turning away from the looking-glass, Harry quickly recast the Glamour, making sure it would remain until taken off. Taking down the wards, but leaving the silencing charm on the mirror, he finished getting ready for bed. He fell asleep, though it was only by forcing himself that he was able.

* * *

A/N: A major 'Thank You!' to all my reviewers. The fact that you deem this worthy to review makes writing it that much more enjoyable. Your comments are much appreciated, as I think my Muse has become addicted. ;-) Thank you.

And of course, to all my readers- Thank you kindly, and I hope you continue to enjoy.

Shameless Ploy- if you like darker one-shots, read my new very short one, _**Surrendering To Shadow**_. Sorry, I couldn't resist.

Original Spell Latin:  
Consistere- to stand fast  
Adhuc- still  
Mora- stoppage


	14. Tormentum

Chapter Fourteen- Anguish

_Harry fell asleep, though it was only by forcing himself that he was able._

Figures moved through his vision, darker grey to the lighter fog obscuring clarity. Menacing incoherent sounds echoed across the dim expanse. Nothing appeared definitive, and movement everywhere appeared to be slow and restricted. The smoky air trailed around, alternating between dense and light clouds. It could have been the lands of mist that the Druids spoke of, except the physical no longer seemed substantial.

Attempting to focus in this strange reality, Harry found himself unable to move, unable to register even himself. Even his thoughts were filled with this muddling vapour, he couldn't grasp them as they flitted in his mind.

Suddenly he felt a pull downward, and with no other choice or idea, he fell to it. As his mind cleared, he found himself in a world of darkness. Still feeling as though a specter, he worked to take in all he could. Slowly he realized that what he had first assumed was blackness, was actually a deep red, a threatening crimson. He instantly knew this was not going to be well.

Upon that thought came another, the definite certainty that this was something of Riddle's. Somehow he had managed to gain a hold over Harry, but the younger wizard could not think of a way it was possible. This was no mental plane, this did not belong in any respect to him.

Dimly, then increasing in volume, a strange laugh sounded to Harry. He insistently recognized it, dread running through him. In his lack of corporeality, he could do nothing but listen. The laughter died, and a voice replaced it.

"Hello, Harry Potter. It seems we meet again, and so soon too." The words sounded within his mind, and he recognized the familiar tone.

Sharp, cold, it was one that Harry remembered not from the being in the mental plane, who's representation was more human than monster, but from the creature that man had become. It was the true voice of Lord Voldemort.

"Nothing to say, Harry? Why, you were much more verbose in our last little meeting of minds." A smirk was clearly heard in the intonation, and that, more than any words it spoke, grated on Harry's nerves. "All right, perhaps we'd do best if I explained a couple things. As you can see, or well, I suppose you can't actually see anything at the moment, allow me to rephrase- _you can tell_ we are not on any other plane of consciousness. There were a multitude of reasons for that.

"First, as much fun as creating that through our little connection was, I did find it rather draining. Understand, I am quite an expert at such matters, but the meddling, that was interesting. I'm sure you realize that all that forms a 'mental plane', as plebeian minds have come to call it, is a mere bringing of one's soul out of the physical and onto the first step of the Spiritual Domain, where one travels should one die. Or as with I, should one be removed from their earthly body. That is how I became so well versed in doing so. I can now go there at will. And I can bring anyone I wish into it with me, as long as I have access to their inner being. My followers, for example, or _you_. Yes, that scar is useful, even to me.

"Now, where was I? Oh, of course. See, typically, I bring the individual to my plane, one where I have complete control. Somehow, though, with you, the plane became a mixing of yours and mine. Never did have a sacrificial altar before. Says something about your state of mind, wouldn't you say, my boy? Dear me, I nearly sounded like that old fool that runs your school. Must watch that. Anyway, the maintaining of such a plane can be rather tiresome. I'm sure you understand."

The voice decreased in volume, though the level of threat heightened. Harry fought a lance of fear and forced himself to continue listening, in the chance Riddle would let something slip. Given the man's loquaciousness, it was distinctly possible.

"Another reason, I must say," Voldemort sneered, "is your beautiful display in besting my attempt to kill you, yet again. I had forgotten your last efforts at life were so, well, _extreme_. Managing to throw both of us back into the physical, _what an achievement_. It shows great potential, my lion-snake. You have only to reach it.

"But now is not the time for such discussions!" The intonation gained a pleased edge, forcing nervousness again into the listening wizard. "We have so much to do. Well, I, at any rate. You have merely to watch. I'm sure you recall your little foray into my mind, back before your, _what was it_, oh yes, fourth year. Now, I've noticed your Occlumency. Very good. Unfortunately, well for you, when you did your little stunt in the other conscious plane, you solidified and strengthened our, for lack of a better term, bond." The disturbing laughter rang out again. "Yes, now I can pull you into my mind whenever I wish. All I need do is focus through our connection."

Harry spoke for the first time, though a vague feeling of losing a battle ran through his mind. "You can _pull_ me in, Tom? Does that mean that you can not force yourself in, or _what_?"

Silence fell for a moment, and Harry fleetingly wondered if the other had heard him. Being in another's mind, well, it was difficult to know how to make oneself known.

Finally, Riddle replied. "I would not know, _Harry_, I've not yet tried. But, I wouldn't believe that idea, if I were you." The voice was stiff, and the younger instinctively knew the man was lying.

Relieved that Riddle wouldn't be pushing into his consciousness any time soon, Harry spoke again. "Also, you waited until I was asleep. I would not say that we can do this any time you wish, if you have to wait for my _bedtime_," he sneered, matching the other's tone easily. "And why exactly have you brought me here? _Other_ than to recite a lecture? A rather annoying one, at that."

A dark chuckle sounded in the murky red surrounding Harry. "Impatient, my little protege? Don't worry, the lecture is over. On to the practical."

Abruptly Harry felt physical feeling overwhelm him. Bright light clouded his vision momentarily, before he could focus. He found himself looking at the edge of a small village, the moon hanging high above a church steeple. As he turned to look at a legion of cloaked figures, without meaning to move, he realized that he was not in his own body, that it felt very wrong. Try as he might, he couldn't make the limbs of the skeletal frame he was in move to his command. The high laughter sounded again, out of what Harry registered as his mouth, but knew was Riddle's.

"Well, well, my faithful," Voldemort drawled, waving a hand to encompass the darkly clothed men before him.

Harry felt every movement as his own, though the sense of uneasiness at it continued. He grasped at that feeling, if only to guarantee that he was separate from this.

Voldemort went on to his men. "We have before us a village. Like any town, one might say. But, no. It is not. Within this place, wizards and witches consort, _live_, with not only Mudbloods, but _Muggles_! Freely associating." Murmurs sounded from the troop. "Yes, my friends. Now, we can not allow this blasphemy to continue. We have the duty to stop it." Nodding and general noises of agreement came from the others. "Go to it." Voldemort flicked his wand towards a house mid-way down the street.

The explosion ripped through the town and the fields surrounding it. The Death Eaters circled the buildings, then stormed into them. Screams rang out, smoke filled the air. Blasts of light came from within windows and upon the street. The sleeping residents poured from their dwellings, the adults meeting the cloaked figures in battle. The magical members of the village tried in vain to stop them. The Muggles had no chance.

Voldemort stalked through the burning street to the middle of town. A large platform was erected there, a banner proclaiming the town's hundredth birthday stretched over it. Raising his wand, the Dark Lord lit it too on fire. He slowly pivoted, a content smile turning his mouth upward.

Inside the madman's mind, Harry struggled to gain control. Focusing on his will, he struck the mental barriers that were around him again and again. He attempted spells, incantations meant for mental power. Riddle merely laughed.

Finally managing a shift in the shields, Harry pushed harder. Voldemort stilled, closing his eyes, covering Harry's vision of the continued horrors in the town.

Suddenly, pain flew over Harry. Gasping, he attempted to back away from it, but Riddle's mind wound around him, through their connection, pulling him to Voldemort's power. Harry fought his screams, again fighting against the other's mind, to no avail. Riddle once more opened his eyes.

Harry had no concept of time, but as Voldemort eased the pain, still maintaining a firm hold over him, he realized it had been a while. Many buildings had been leveled; those that weren't remained on fire and in danger of collapse. These gave a garish light, as though torches were lit around them. The smell of burning wood and flesh singed the air. Corpses littered the street, so many blackened as to be unrecognizable. By size, Harry could guess which were the women and children. Voldemort stared at the bodies, and Harry abruptly noticed that the man was aroused at the sight. Harry shuddered against the mental binds.

Movement towards him finally drew Voldemort's attention away, and he turned to his followers nearing him. Harry realized they pulled along captives, and he knew that this was what Tom really wanted him to see.

"Ah, now, what do we have here?" Riddle questioned, stepping towards the line of Death Eaters and their burdens.

"Mudbloods, mostly, Master, according to the Origin Charm," stated a hoarse voice behind one of the masks.

Voldemort smiled. "Excellent. Now, any half-bloods?" he asked with an alarming anger under his voice.

Two of the figures pushed their hostages nearer to the Dark Lord. The one closest, a young girl, dropped to her knees with a sob. Riddle stepped to her, ignoring the flinch she gave at his sight, and ran a hand across her blonde hair, curls turned red with blood. Pulling his hand away, Voldemort smiled at the crimson on it, then grasped the child by the chin and pulled her to her feet. Taking his hand away, leaving a hand-print on her face, he wiped the blood off on his robes. He glanced over the other half-blood, this one a boy maybe a year out of school, though Harry didn't recognize him from Hogwarts. Voldemort then looked back at the girl. "Impure filth," he muttered, finally turning away.

Within his mind, Harry asked, "Did you forget you're a Half-Blood yourself?"

Voldemort stiffened, and then cocked his head. Swiftly whirling around, causing the girl to gasp in fear, Riddle trained his wand on her. "_Pellem_ _Detrahere_ _Corpori_!"

The girl screamed, the sound shrill before choking off as shock set in. Slowly, before the evil wizards' gaze and Harry's appalled sight, the skin melted from the child's body. The pale flesh liquefied, slipping from bone and muscle, leaving trails of white over red. The girl's system failed and she went limp, dropping to the ground as the Death Eater holding her released her. The man rubbed the residue of skin on his gloves off onto his robes, making what may have been a gagging noise in his throat.

Voldemort watched, his earlier excitement returning. Speaking in his mind, he asked, "Anything else of which you wish to remind me, Harry?"

Harry stayed silent, barely registering the voice speaking to him. As long as the Dark Lord looked at the macabre body, Harry was forced to as well. Fighting down abhorrence, shame, and disgust, he was filled with a terrible horror. He failed to notice the pain that had shot through him, from his connection with Riddle, because he still felt the after-effects of casting the curse. As Voldemort had cursed the girl, Harry had felt everything as though he, himself, had done it. The darkness building within, the power flowing through the wand so like his own, the ecstasy that took over the muscles afterward. Rage, both at Riddle and himself, flowed through Harry, and he renewed his battle to break free.

Voldemort met his every effort, not allowing him leeway to gain control or to force his own physical body awake. So intent was he on his task, that Harry didn't feel Riddle gesture for the other captives to be killed. When bright green light filled their vision, Harry realized what was happening. As the curses died out, thumps sounded of bodies collapsing.

Once the green faded back to the red-orange of fire, Harry saw that all but one of those held where dead. The remaining one was the half-blooded young man, kneeling and visibly trying to not look at the dead beside him. A wary nervousness grew in Harry, and tiring, he finally had to stop fighting against the bonds.

Waving a wand, Riddle conjured a throne-like chair and sat down, his wand in his lap. He ran a gaze over his followers, then focused on the shaking boy in the dirt. He smiled condescendingly.

"Well, now, no need to be frightened. I swear your fate won't be the same as the little girl's," Voldemort drawled in as soothing a tone as possible. The young wizard cowered away. The Dark Lord chuckled, then addressed the figure nearest him. "Lucius."

"Yes, my lord?" Malfoy's melodic voice questioned.

"First, remove your mask. Good," Voldemort purred as the man complied. "Do what you wish to the boy."

"Anything?" confirmed Lucius, running a hand over his styled hair. His eyes shone brightly with excitement.

"Of course. Just don't kill him." Voldemort turned back to the kneeling wizard. "I have something special for him."

Lucius nodded and stepped to the young man. The boy tried to struggle away, but a swift body bind rendered him unable. Lucius knocked him down, forcing him to lay looking up at the smirking blonde. Spelling him over onto his stomach, Lucius' leer intensified. The older wizard quickly dispatched the other's clothes and straddled the quivering form.

Once more struggling in Voldemort's mind, Harry nevertheless was forced to watch. Overwhelmed by painful memories and current horror, he fought with an effort nearing desperate. Riddle easily suppressed his attempts, his own excitation remaining. Harry continued to strike the barriers, loathing not only what was occurring outside, but that he felt everything Riddle did. Concentrating on gaining control, Harry tried not to hear the whimpers and gasps.

To the wizard he held in his mind, Voldemort said, "Do you like this, Harry? I know Lucius so well, I knew he'd do exactly what I was planning. This little show is all for you, Harry. I know _I_ enjoy it." Harry didn't reply.

Eventually Lucius finished, pulling off the battered form with a muttered cleaning spell. Laughter sounded from various Death Eaters watching the sobbing young man on the ground. Voldemort stood once more, looking over his men as though proud. He stepped over to Lucius, who had righted himself.

"Lucius, my loyal servant." Riddle ran a finger down the face of the blonde wizard. "Very good. Now, here." He placed a vial in the man's hand. "This is the special prize I have for the boy. Make him drink it."

Lucius murmured assent, bowing slightly in deference, then kneeled beside the prone figure, turning him over. He quickly uncorked the container, an anticipatory glint in his eyes. Grasping the younger wizard's hair, Lucius jerked his head back and pushed the vial against his lips. Having no will to fight back, the shaking teenager drank the potion down. Lucius dropped his hold of hair, and the young man lay back against the street.

Nodding at his follower when Lucius moved back to stand near him, Voldemort watched the captive eagerly. After several moments of no action, a couple of the cloaked Death Eaters moved restlessly. Never removing his avid gaze from the figure, Riddle raised a hand to still the men's movements. They stopped immediately.

Suddenly a scream wrenched the air, as the teenager arched against the ground. Muscles tensed and writhed under the bare skin, and his limbs flailed, pounding the dirt beneath him. Several snickers came from under masks. Continued cries came from the young man, slowly growing more and more hoarse. His movements slowed, his body twitched, and his eyes became unfocused and pain-filled.

Harry watched, but didn't allow himself to really concentrate. He forced himself to continue fighting Riddle, as futile as it was. Even knowing there was nothing he could do, Harry couldn't just give in, as much as his ragged emotions and mental state wanted to.

A masked figure ran towards them, panting for breath. "Master," the man cried as he reached the Dark Lord. "Master, the Ministry is coming. They've realized we're here!"

Finally turning his gaze from the shaking figure before him, Voldemort sighed in exasperation. He nodded, and gestured for his followers to leave. As the man moved, Riddle stopped the messenger from going with them.

Once they were the only ones remaining, Voldemort turned a disconcerting look upon the other. In his mind, Riddle addressed Harry. "Well, it seems I must cut this short. More's the pity. Did you like the show, my snake?" A deep chuckle surrounded Harry. "Yes, this was all for you. Don't worry, we can talk later. We'll meet soon. Quite soon. Until then."

With that, the Dark Lord's eyes focused on his servant. Though not angry with the man himself, Voldemort decided that didn't really matter. Knowing that the Ministry would soon arrive, he smirked anyway. He raised his wand, lips quirking as the form cringed. "_Crucio_."

An agonized yell echoed down the empty, burning street. Within the dark wizard's consciousness, Harry gasped. The pain of the curse flowed into him as much as into the one it was upon. He didn't know if he'd felt the casting of this curse, like the other, because the torture forced all other feeling from his mind. Harry never registered when Riddle dropped the mental binds holding him, but the pain increased tenfold, now physically upon his body. Generating at his scar, the torment burned through his nerves, as he writhed. He failed to notice the blood in his mouth, from biting back the screams.

Abruptly the spell ceased, causing Harry to pitch over in shock. Gasping for breath, fighting pain and emotion, he finally focused upon the wood beneath his palms. Slowly he realized he was on his hands and knees on a floor, though any idea beyond that seemed out of reach. Over the after-shocks of the curse, memories ghosted in tendrils across him, almost physical in their intensity. Harry's body shook harder and his respiration came in raspy heaves.

Forcing himself to concentrate on the feel of the hard floor and on the still air around him, Harry worked to gain control of himself. Finding it much easier than fighting Tom, he managed to slow his breathing. Awareness washed back into his mind, and Harry looked up. Dizziness struck him, making him sit down from his position and lean back. Eventually, he registered that he was in his room in Grimmauld Place, sitting beside his bed. Fighting nausea, Harry made himself rise to the bed and sit on its edge.

Still breathing heavily, he closed his eyes and fell into his Occlumency, letting blackness settle upon him. Once more governing his faculties, he forced his eyes back open and stood. He carefully wiped his mouth free of blood and walked to the desk beside the wardrobe.

Reaching it, Harry leaned heavily upon the strong oak. Finally regaining his sure footing, he straightened. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his wand and spelled a quick note to Dumbledore. On the off chance the headmaster didn't know of the attack, Harry felt he should tell him. With another wave of his wand and a muttered spell, the letter was sent to the man's office.

Harry walked to the door of the bedroom and listened for a moment. When he heard nothing in the hall, he realized that he must not have made noise enough to wake his godfather or Remus. Thanking Myrddin, Harry grabbed his cloak and swung it over his shoulders. Waving his wand in a long arc, Harry cast a quick charm to make sure no one would walk in to find him gone. With a pop, he disapparated.

The night was still strong, the moon now hidden behind the horizon, when Harry apparated to the empty streets. The burning buildings still created enough light to see by. The air seemed to hold the evidence of pain, every breath taken was as though stolen from those that were now dead.

Harry walked quickly towards the heart of town, senses alert for anything. He kept to the shadows, stepping over bodies and various debris. His face was set, and he felt much as he would on a battlefield. Deliberately ignoring the rancid smell that was much stronger in person, Harry made his way through the streets, silently and methodically.

Finally reaching the edge of the town square, he halted near the side of a building, nudging aside a charred form to better conceal himself. Carefully, he gazed over the open area, eyes reaching into shadows, looking for any movement. When none was present, he stepped silently out of his hiding place, his wand in hand.

Knowing that the Death Eaters had gone, as they couldn't have remained in such a place even for a trap, Harry was more concerned with Ministry or Order officials. Supposedly the Ministry was already on its way, and Dumbledore would not be slow in following. Harry knew it was only a matter of time before they came, and he wanted a look around before that.

Circling the outskirts of the square, Harry looked upon the destroyed shops and dwellings, taking in the damage. Most of it seemed to have been done for sport, or as a show of force. Gazing over the numerous bodies, mostly the ones unburnt, he took notice of what they may have been killed by. Quite a few looked to have received the Killing Curse, which was typical of Death Eater attacks from years ago. Harry noticed the distinct lack of daggers, or the presence of corpses having died by Muggle means. He wondered why that was, if the members of Riddle's followers were trained in weaponry. Looking around, he tried to work out the battle.

Swiftly stepping, he made his way past the platform, and a soft moan made him falter. Glancing to the left, he realized the noise came from in front of the structure beside him. Still listening for other sounds, especially telltale pops, Harry strode to the area.

Eyes alighting on the figure, Harry's breath caught in his throat. Upon the ground, still barely shaking, lay the half-blooded boy that had been tortured. Dropping to his knees beside the other teenager, Harry caught the other's anguished gaze. The boy whimpered.

"Shh, it's all right," Harry murmured. "I won't hurt you. The Death Eaters are gone, they aren't coming back."

Harry noticed the eyes relax slightly, and smiled in comfort. Turning his sight to the other's chest, he saw movement beneath the wizard's skin, as well as a blackish cast to the flesh. Realizing what it meant, he nonetheless muttered a diagnosis charm. He forced his face not to show his sorrow when his fears were confirmed.

The vial Lucius had forced on the teenager was a poison, one Harry had seen once and would always remember. The liquid spread like molten fire through the victim, attacking first the lesser organs, muscles, and tissues, bonding to and disintegrating them. Then it moved to the more necessary parts, destroying them in turn. An agonizing, slow death.

Looking the other wizard in the eye, sighing to himself sadly, Harry quietly said, "I can't save you." No one could. This poison had no cure.

A stiff nod greeted this, and dim resignation joined the pain in the teenager's eyes. Harry swallowed tensely, keeping the other's slightly unfocused gaze. Numbly, Harry pulled his dagger from its place attached to his leg. When the young man's eyes closed, another moan sounding from his lips, Harry raised the dagger. Nearly inaudibly, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

As the blade plunged into his heart, the dying teenager's eyes flew open. Surprise, and a vague gratitude flitted within, before the life faded from them. As the last shuddering breath left the broken body, Harry retrieved his dagger from its makeshift sheath. Waving it with a wandless spell to remove the blood, he replaced it to its proper place. Harry ran a hand over the wizard's eyes, closing them, before standing back up.

From behind, Harry registered the sound of apparation. Never turning from the prostrate figure, he barely noticed the yell of the Ministry wizard, as he disapparated from the scene of so many slaughters.

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A/N: I truly appreciate all of my reviewers; it makes me feel so wonderful to get feedback. Thank you.

And a definite Thank You to all of my readers, as well. Please enjoy.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,

Zenn

Pellem Detrahere Corpori - (Latin) Flay


	15. Tractatio

A/N: I heartily apologize for the length of your wait for this chapter. I fell ill for a time, and upon recovery, found myself held hostage by my own Muses, who forced me to work on stories that will eventually be posted on ffnet. I do not plan on abandoning this, so fear not! And I promise to post much quicker. -Zenn

* * *

Chapter Fifteen- Handling 

_Never turning from the prostrate figure, Harry . . . disapparated from the scene of so many slaughters._

Reappearing in the bedroom of Grimmauld Place, Harry felt a wave of surrealism wash over him. The stark interior of the room was played over with macabre images that continued to flash across his mind. Harry had dealt with battlefields and scenes as disturbing in the years he'd been away, but the emotions still roiled within him. He wasn't sure if it was the absence of allies along side him, that he'd been made to watch and could do nothing against it, or the mere fact that it had occurred in this realm instead of the one he'd been trapped in, that made this so much harder to swallow.

The boy in the square- Harry didn't even know his name- had wrenched down the walls he kept up to maintain his composure. Whether it was sympathy or empathy, Harry felt overwhelmed. The memory of his own experiences interlaced with the boy's, remembered pain lancing through him even as the boy's agony was put to rest.

Gripping the wooden bedpost, Harry forced away everything in his mind, until he only knew the physical sensation of being in the room and the numbness of a lack of thought. He breathed deeply, focussing on oblivion, losing himself to Occlusion.

Once sure he had his emotions under control, Harry opened his eyes, gazing unseeingly around the room. With a sigh, he glanced down, waving a hand to clean the evidence of his little jaunt off his cloak and robes. Shrugging the former off his shoulders to puddle in the middle of the floor, Harry sat on the bed, running both of his hands through his hair in a distracted motion.

Occlumency worked well enough to cover what he felt, but couldn't take it away, as well he knew. The one who had taught him, in the other realm, found it a most difficult task just to have Harry learn that. The teacher was from the Academy, and like all the Commanders, as they were known, was not human, and therefore had little patience for the myriad emotions of one. He hadn't liked Harry in the least and wasn't afraid to show it, but as Harry was rather used to that type of treatment, he found it manageable.

The hard part was the subject itself; Harry was certain that even if the tutoring hadn't been brutal, it would have been such. It had taken the better part of a year to learn enough of it to force others out of his mind when they attacked, nearly another to keep them from entering in the first place. Harry now knew that he had a firm grasp of it, and used it often, to his advantage.

That Riddle had found a way past Harry's barriers was overly frustrating. He knew that the evil wizard would not hesitate to press his edge, dragging Harry into his twisted schemes as many times as possible. Harry would have to find a way to fight it off, but he had little idea of how to do that. His training beyond Occlumency was in physical warfare and theory, he had no basis for understanding other planes of consciousness or what one was capable of in them. And Riddle had plenty of experience in all of that.

With another deep sigh, Harry rose back to his feet, walking to the door. He found the wards undisturbed, which saved him having to explain anything, and quickly dispelled them. Guessing that his godfather and Remus had most likely been contacted by Dumbledore, he wasn't surprised to find a note attached to his door.

_Harry,_

_We've been called to some Order business. Left this so if you woke up, you wouldn't worry. 'Course you wouldn't be reading this if you hadn't woken up, so that sentence was probably unnecessary, but anyway. All right, we have to go, don't worry, everything is fine. We'll be back as soon as we can, which I'm sure will be really quick._

_Sirius_

Raising an eyebrow at his godfather's rambling, Harry shook his head in amusement. He walked back into the bedroom, placing the parchment on the table near the door. Not bothering to change his clothes, he lay upon the bed, though he kept his gaze fixed upon the material draped over it, rather than close his eyes. The clock sounded across the room, the steady noise mirroring Harry's breathing as he once more drifted in the dark of his mind.

A sudden crash downstairs jerked Harry out of his reverie, and he let out a small groan as thoughts pushed back into his mind. Sitting up and stretching his neck, he steeled himself to go see the others.

As he walked through the labyrinth of the house, Harry focussed on the furnishings of the hallways, vaguely cataloguing the various artifacts and paintings. Though the hint of darkness remained as a layer upon everything, most that he noticed were innocuous._ Wonder if the Order even realizes the aura around here is still so dark,_ Harry thought as he neared the kitchen.

Voices from beyond the hall echoed hollowly around him; Harry stilled before the doorway to listen for a moment. His godfather's voice was rather quiet, making it difficult to distinguish words, but Harry could tell that the tone was dark. Knowing that Remus, if he was in the kitchen, would be able to sense him, Harry made to move forward, then stopped when a distinct growling voice spoke.

Harry remembered that voice, though it was almost from another lifetime. Of course the man he had known as Professor Moody had turned out to be an imposter and a Death Eater bent on killing him, but Harry would recognize even the real man. Knowing him as a friend of Dumbledore's, Harry hoped that Moody had been told of his return, lest the infamously paranoid retired Auror attempt to subdue him.

Realizing that he could delay no longer, and with his face studiously neutral, Harry stepped into the kitchen. The quiet conversation instantly halted as the room's occupants turned him. Remus was farthest from the door, which had probably lent to Harry's not having been noticed before, fully dressed and holding his travelling cloak over one arm. The older man turned a smile on him, though Harry could see the haggard edge underneath, beyond that which his lycanthropy bestowed upon him usually.

Turning towards the other two in the room, Harry noticed that his godfather also held an uncommonly solemn expression, though it lightened as Harry looked at him. Nodding a greeting, Harry walked over to the table where Sirius sat, noticing the discarded travel cloaks over the bench. As he walked over, he looked upon the other man sitting across from the Animagus.

Moody had a faintly suspicious look in his one real eye as he looked Harry up and down. His magical eye darted around the room, then fixed fully on the younger wizard. He raised an eyebrow, which twisted his scarred visage strangely.

"Well, now, Potter," Mad-Eye growled, standing heavily. "Heard you'd come back. Dumbledore's sure your no threat, so that's something. Now, I remember you from your, what, fourth year Leaving Feast, yeah, that's it." He moved closer and Harry was hard pressed to stay still. When he did so, Moody looked grudgingly approving. "You were quite the little whelp, then, weren't you?"

Startled, Harry's lips quirked slightly. Remus choked a bit, clearly muffling a chuckle. Harry met his eye briefly, noting that the werewolf's eyes appeared to be less dark, then turned back to Mad-Eye Moody. Sirius meanwhile had stood with a sharp glare at the man.

"Moody. No need to be insulting. That was a hard time for everyone," Sirius said in clipped tones.

Moody went on as though he hadn't heard. "Now, I've been told that you've been busy these last years." He narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Not heard too much else, though. As to what you've been up to, at any rate." With a last look, Moody finally backed off. "Well, you do look a right state better than you did, that's certain."

"So do you, Mr Moody," Harry replied flippantly, garnering a harsh laugh from the man.

"Quite right, quite right." Moody smiled, a turn of his lips twisting his features once more.

Mad-Eye sat back down, taking a swig from the flask in his hand. Figuring that it most definitely was not butterbeer, Harry chuckled lightly to himself and moved to sit as well. Remus lay his cloak to the side and joined them. Silence reigned briefly, as Harry watched both Sirius and Remus stifle yawns. Harry almost felt sorry for them.

"So, what was the Order business you wrote about, Sirius?" Harry asked, amused when the man startled.

"Oh, yeah. Well, nothing much, you know how it is," the Animagus answered easily, though he didn't look Harry in the eye. "Just a disturbance in a village near the coast."

"I see. Nothing much at all," Harry said softly. His godfather relaxed at this, clearly missing the negative inflection in Harry's voice.

After another quiet moment, Remus spoke up. "Well, Harry, you have to go to Hogwarts in a few. Would you like some breakfast?"

Harry shook his head quickly. "I'm not really hungry, Remus. Thanks."

The werewolf dropped the subject, for which Harry was grateful. He couldn't imagine eating at the moment, and would not have liked to lie about the reason had the man pushed it. Harry found himself glad that Remus and Sirius were too tired to act overprotective, and fleetingly wondered if he'd have to wear them out all of the time just to get them to lay off.

Harry mentally shook his head at his inane thoughts, but did realize them to be a coping method. Thinking about nothing in particular was certainly easier than focussing on the things pushed to the back of his mind. Especially around present company. Noticing Moody watching him, Harry turned to the older wizard and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Moody quirked his strange smile once more. "Well, boy, Dumbledore tells me you are to take exams to place you back in your year."

"Yeah," Harry responded, then grinned wryly. "I took my Potions test yesterday."

Mad-Eye snorted. "And how was that?"

"Delightful," replied Harry dryly.

Smirking, Moody polished off the last of his drink. Harry glanced at the others and noticed Remus looking at him with an amused expression. Harry shrugged and levelled a grin at him, then turned to his godfather. Sirius had his head in his hands and his eyes closed, appearing to be very near falling asleep. With a half-smile gracing his lips, Harry looked back at Moody when the man spoke.

"Well, let's be off, Potter, and leave these two to get to bed."

Harry blinked at him. "Er, where to, sir?"

"Hogwarts, of course. Where else?" Moody said, giving him an odd look.

When Harry just raised his eyebrows, Remus chuckled. "I take it Professor Dumbledore didn't mention who has been teaching Defence for the last year, and while Sirius and I have been away."

Harry looked at him sharply as he shook his head. "No, didn't cross his mind, I suppose." Harry turned to Moody. "So, I guess I should call you Professor."

Moody growled a laugh. "I finally did get around to some teaching."

"Why are you quitting, if I may ask?"

Turning both eyes on Harry, Moody answered after a moment. "I realized it was easier be an Auror at the height of Dark activity than to teach teenagers anything." Moody laughed again as he stood. "Not to mention, they were making me paranoid."

Harry choked slightly as he covered his own laughter and followed the man to the Floo as he got up. With a wave at Remus who was currently trying to wake Sirius, Harry disappeared in a burst of flame.

Stepping easily out of the grate in the private room of the headmaster's office, Harry saw that Moody had already gone through the door. Harry walked into the office, stroking Fawkes as he passed the bird.

"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore greeted cheerfully enough, though Harry detected something under the tone.

"Morning, Headmaster." Harry moved over and sat in a chair before the desk at Dumbledore's gesture.

Albus turned to Moody. "Alastor, you said you had complied Mr Potter's exam?" At the man's affirmative, Dumbledore nodded. "Excellent. Then, why don't I send Harry down in a few minutes? He would most likely be done by breakfast, don't you think?"

"He should be," Moody growled lightly. "Whether or not he passes."

Harry held back a smirk as he met the headmaster's eye. Dumbledore twinkled at him, even as he answered Mad-Eye. "Well, then, why don't you go on ahead, Alastor, and I'll send Harry along shortly. I have a couple of things to discuss with him."

Moody nodded and headed out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Once alone, Dumbledore offered Harry tea and one of his lemon drops. With a chuckle, Harry accepted both.

"Now, I don't suppose I have need to ask if you know of the occurrences of last night," Albus began, gazing at the younger man.

"No, I know all too well," Harry answered, letting some of his sorrow show through his tight mask.

"Yes, I am sorry for that, my boy." Dumbledore paused as he took a sip of his tea, then placed the cup back in its saucer. "Your letter was quite clear as to how you saw everything. Do you have any idea how Voldemort managed to pull you in despite your defences?"

Harry sighed. "According to him, though it may be untrue, when I forced us out of the mental plane, I strengthened our connection. Apparently it was enough to override my Occlumency. I can't see any other way that Tom could have done it."

"I see," Albus murmured thoughtfully. "Now, other than seeing through his eyes, was there anything else? Did you feel anything?"

"Nothing, other than a vague sense of not being physical," Harry told him easily, twisting the truth without the bat of an eye.

"Well, then," the headmaster stated in an equally simple tone, though his gaze was intense, "I suppose that other than finding a way to circumvent his abilities, there isn't anything else we can do at the moment."

Harry nodded in agreement, then taking a drink he waited to see what else the man had to say. Dumbledore didn't disappoint him.

"Now, I heard a strange accounting from an Auror that reported to the attacked village last night."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but kept silent. He finished the last of his tea, flipping the cup on its saucer to dry and placing it upon the desk. Having an idea of where the man was going, Harry waited once again.

"Yes," Dumbledore continued. "It seems that upon arrival, this Auror saw a cloaked figure Disapparate from the middle of the town square. The official word is that it was a last Death Eater leaving the scene. But I find that to be a little too . . . easy of an explanation."

"Well," said Harry, "they say the simplest interpretation is often the correct one."

"True, but there is also always the exception to the rule," Albus replied. "See, the circumstances were rather suspicious."

"Really? How so?" Harry asked, feigning ignorance, though he knew Dumbledore clearly had an idea of what had happened.

The headmaster raised an eyebrow. "The place where the figure was, the Ministry found a body."

"That would indicate a Death Eater, then, would it not?" Harry asked, eyes glinting sharply.

"Perhaps, except for the manner of death. It seems that this boy was killed with a knife of some kind. The only person found to have died in such a way." Albus gazed at Harry, who watched him back, unblinking. "And, it was found that the child was suffering from a poison that would have killed him after a short time." Turning away from Harry's emerald stare, Dumbledore looked out the window at the sun which had barely broken the horizon. "It is not typical that a follower of Voldemort would put a person out of their misery."

Harry followed the headmaster's gaze out the window, then looked back to the man as he sighed. The office was silent for a moment as the occupants sat across from one another.

Finally, Albus broke the quiet. "Now, had it not been a Death Eater, and had it been someone with good intentions, I would hope they realize just how dangerous a scene like that is. Had they been caught by either Voldemort or the Ministry, the consequences would have been ghastly. And there is always the question of just how they would handle seeing and doing such as they had to."

Harry watched the headmaster, who still hadn't turned back to him. His profile was solemn and the twinkle was overpowered by the blaze of sunlight that flowed across his face. After a moment, Harry responded quietly.

"I'm certain that the individual is quite aware of the risks, Headmaster." Harry glanced downwards, then back to the older wizard. "As well, I believe they would be well versed in such things, and would know how to deal with something as that."

Dumbledore slowly turned and once more pinned Harry with his sharp blue eyes. "Do you think so?"

Harry murmured, "Yes."

Dumbledore nodded, still watching his student. "All right, well, I am sure we have kept Alastor waiting quite long enough, my boy."

Harry smiled softly at the dismissal, and took his leave of the headmaster. As he rode the spiral staircase down from the office, he wondered if he _was_ handling it. Battle he'd known now for two years; this . . . this was something different.

With a sigh, Harry stepped off of the stairs and turned down the hall. Though he knew he was most likely too early to meet anyone on the way, he kept alert for others. He wasn't much in the mood for reunions, finding himself less social than even yesterday and after his confrontation with Ron.

He shook his head as he realized that if his old friend knew of Harry's activities, he'd never understand and never forgive him. _Things had certainly changed, even as so much stayed the same,_ Harry thought as he looked at the familiar path he took to the Defence classroom a floor below him. Harry was the one playing his cards close to his chest, hiding things from even Dumbledore. He had his reasons, though, however hard it was.

Harry stopped walking suddenly as he felt a tingle of magic. Scanning along the vacant hallway, he felt both ways with his senses. His eyes narrowed as he detected the boundary of a ward directly behind him.

A flash of light caught his eye just as he drew his wand. Turning, Harry saw a curse heading straight at his chest, streaking through the hall.

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A/N: A major 'Thank You!' to all of my readers and reviewers! I appreciate all of you. 

On a plot note - The story shall speed up, leading to the part that I am most looking forward to writing.

If you would like a hint regarding what is upcoming, tell me in a review, and I shall post a bit about it in an Author Note at the bottom of the next chapter.

Please let me know that you are out there; the reviews make writing very rewarding!

Zenn

BTW - My chapter titles are in Latin, with the closest translation of what I wish to say at the beginning of each chapter.


	16. Offensio

Chapter Sixteen- Shock

_Turning, Harry saw a curse heading straight at his chest, streaking through the hall._

By instinct, he dodged down, falling to his knees and raising his wand. The spell flew over his head, exploding against the makeshift ward behind him. Leaping to his feet, Harry jumped away from the sparks, scanning up and down the hall. With a muttered oath, he realized that the passage was perfectly straight and clear, leaving him in the open.

Another curse shot at him, quicker than the last, but as easy to duck. Angry that he had been startled by this attack, he had to fight an urge to blast apart the hall. Without knowing more of what was happening, that might only work against him. Determined to gain the offensive, he straightened and pointed his wand in front of him.

"_Retegere_!" Harry murmured, attempting a general revealing charm. Apparently it was expected, as nothing was exposed. Though, perhaps the attacker wasn't using a Disillusion spell, but an Invisibility Cloak. Harry tried an unveiling charm. "_Revelare_!"

When no one was uncovered, but another curse came at him, Harry moved to the wall, keeping the ward behind him to protect his back. Erecting a mild shield, he attempted to calculate the logistics of this attack. Based on the spacing of the spells, it was likely to be only one person, using the spell wall to corner him. He couldn't hear nor locate this person, but as of yet, none of the curses seemed especially devastating, almost as though they were playing with him.

Suddenly his shield was dispelled, a streak of blue light blasting clear through it. As Harry pushed away from the wall, landing face down, he had the vague thought that playtime was over.

Not bothering to rise, Harry flipped to his side and cast a little known silencing spell that would pass through any barriers. "_Capistrare_!"

Slowly raising to his knees, senses intense, Harry heard a low muffled grunt that indicated that his muzzling curse had hit. Smirking, he stood, thinking which incantation he could use to show his disadvantaged foe. Harry stepped forward cautiously, aiming his wand at the area the noise sounded from.

Beginning his incantation, his voice hitched as a cold wind blew across him from behind. Spinning, he gasped as a corpse-like hand grasped his shirt, pulling him close. An overwhelming wave of despair lanced through him, calling forth memories that he'd relived too often these last few days.

Grasping the tendrils of his Occlumency, Harry wrenched away from the Dementor, falling hard to the stone floor. With sheer willpower, he raised his wand that he still had clasped in a white-knuckled hand.

"_F-frigidum_!" Harry exclaimed as quickly as he could.

A keening wail echoed through the hall as light burst from Harry's wand and washed over the ghastly creature. Suddenly the Dementor jerked backwards and began spinning in dizzying circles, its shape shifting uncontrollably.

As the depressing power lifted, Harry immediately realized that it was not actually a soul-sucking monster, but nothing more than a Boggart. Quickly cancelling his last spell, Harry stood and aimed at the creature.

"_Cachinno_!"

In a puff of smoke the Boggart dissipated with a last screech. Whirling around, Harry narrowed his eyes and once more took aim. He had a sudden idea of just what this little exercise had been about.

"_Retis_! _Retegere Maxima_!" Harry exclaimed angrily.

The air near the opposite side of the hall was disturbed as several Obscuring Charms were destroyed easily. As the last of them faded away, a figure was revealed, wrapped tightly in a brown rope net.

In a clipped tone, Harry bit out, "_Finite Incantatum_."

As soon as the restraining spells were released, Mad-Eye Moody pushed himself ungracefully to his feet. He quickly straightened his robes and then turned a suspicious glare upon Harry. Raising an eyebrow, Harry put away his wand and crossed his arms. For a moment the two wizards stared at one another, neither willing to look aside first. Harry realized he was probably being disrespectful, but found himself uncaring.

A sudden noise down the hall had both men glancing that way. A group of chattering young students rounded the corner, halting as one when they caught sight of Harry and Moody. Several gasps echoed down the hall as they recognized the former. Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"Get moving, you miscreants," Moody growled sharply, startling the students into movement. They turned on their heels and took off in the opposite direction. Moody turned back to Harry. "You, with me."

Moody dispelled the wards in the hall, gesturing for Harry to go back the way he had come. The professor walked to the side and just behind him, as though escorting a prisoner. Harry saw the man watching him and sighed inwardly. _What exactly was my reason for coming back?_ Harry asked himself darkly.

Quickly the two wizards made their way back to the stone guardian of the headmaster's office. Moody muttered the password out the side of his mouth, and pushed Harry onto the stairs as soon as they appeared. They rode in silence, Harry ignoring the other man's stare.

As they stepped off the stairs, the door swung open before them. Walking in, Harry nodded a greeting to Dumbledore, letting Moody guide him towards the headmaster's desk.

"Well, Alastor. Harry. That certainly was a short exam. I trust everything is quite all right?" Albus asked, his eyes glinting in amusement. Harry had a sudden feeling that the man knew exactly what had happened.

"No, everything is not fine, Albus," Moody growled, nudging Harry into one of the chairs next to them.

"And what could have possibly occurred?" Dumbledore sat back, calmly sipping from a teacup.

Moody took the seat beside Harry, holding a hand in the very front of his robes. Harry bit back a smirk as he realized that the man was holding his wand, clearly waiting should Harry try something. The younger wizard was almost tempted, just to see what Moody would do.

Keeping his magical eye trained on Harry, Moody answered Dumbledore, "Albus, what do you know of this . . . boy? Or where he has been?"

The headmaster glanced quickly at Harry with a quirk of his lips, then looked back at his old friend. "Why do you ask, Alastor?"

"Because I don't trust his story," Moody answered sharply. "Really, where could he have gone that he couldn't have contacted anyone? Not to mention his use of curses I haven't even heard of!"

Harry blinked and almost laughed as the retired Auror cleared his throat after his last comment. It was apparent he didn't like admitting what he had, and Harry was hard pressed to feel bad for his discomfort, after that little 'test' in the hall.

"Now, now, Alastor. I am certain of his story as to his absence, and surely nothing he may of cast was distinctly harmful?" Dumbledore questioned mildly.

"No," stated Mad-Eye, looking cross. "And I take it you watched the exam?"

As Dumbledore nodded, Harry finally broke his silence. "Exam? Don't you mean ambush?" he asked, then turned to the headmaster. "I thought teachers weren't allowed to harm students?"

"Nothing I did would have overtly injured you, boy," Moody told him, glaring sharply at him. "What did you expect would be the best way of testing Defence Against the Dark Arts? The class wouldn't be good if the students couldn't defend themselves against attack."

"Oh, then that blasting curse that broke through my shield wouldn't have done anything if it hit me?" Harry asked dryly. He then wondered, "What is it with Defence teachers going after me? First Quirrell, Lockhart, and Moony, then Crouch disguised as none other than the professor who attacked me today."

Albus covered his chuckle with another sip of tea, then addressed him. "Mr Potter, I am confident that Professor Moody was not attempting to kill you, merely to distinguish your skill."

"Of course." Harry sat back and crossed his arms, almost amused.

"Albus, there is no need for my explanations, but there is cause for his! Were I still an Auror, I'd have taken him in immediately," Mad-Eye stated severely.

"Surely you are exaggerating, Alastor," answered Dumbledore.

"No, I don't believe I am. The boy destroyed a Boggart, after seriously causing it harm in its form of a Dementor! Then he was able to not only disable myself, but also break through my Hiding Charms!" Moody exclaimed, his rough voice grating. "Where ever he has been, he can not be trusted not to be using Dark Arts!"

At that, Harry's eyes flashed angrily. "I was doing no such thing!"

Before he could continue, Dumbledore broke in quickly. "Harry, now, calm down. We can straighten this out quite easily. What spells did you use?"

"All of them?" Harry thought back to the small fight. "Well, on Professor Moody there was _Retegere_, _Revelare_, and a maximum _Retegere_. And _Finite Incantatum_. I am sure none of those are Dark. Should I explain their origins?"

"No, boy," growled Moody. "I know very well what kind of spells those are. What of those others, though? The silencing one, and the netting one?"

Harry paused for a moment, realizing that the man wouldn't give up until Harry explained the other spells. "Oh, _Capistrare_ and_ Retis_. The former is a muzzling spell, related to _Silencio_, though it affects the voice as a muffler rather than one to disable. And the latter is a form of a trapping spell that produces a net. I assure you there is nothing dark in either."

Moody still remained unconvinced. "And the ones you used on the Boggart, Potter? That type of creature is only primarily affected by-"

"_Riddikulus_, I know," Harry interrupted. "And that is mostly true. But there are several more abstract spells that haven't been used for a few hundred years that are variations on ones we use today. The original spell against a Boggart wasn't just to repel it, but rather to destroy it. That was the one I used- _Cachinno_.

"As for the one I had canted at the Dementor, that was one meant to completely cut off its source of power- happiness. _Frigidum_ would have destroyed a true Dementor, and was used regularly before the Patronus Charm came into existence. Unfortunately, it takes a large amount of raw power and only works against one of the creatures at a time. You can look either up if you have access to some rather old texts."

Finishing his explanation, Harry leaned back in his chair. He watched the two professors think over what he had said, and found it humorous that they had learned of those spells from him. For several moments quiet reigned in the office, broken only by the sound of breathing and the whirling objects upon the tables.

Dumbledore finally spoke. "Well, now, I believe Mr Potter has given quite agreeable accountings of what he did. What do you think, Alastor?"

Moody reluctantly nodded his head. "Yes. But, Potter, where did you learn all of that?"

Harry looked at the professor for several moments. Then he glanced at Dumbledore briefly, then turned his gaze to the window. When he looked back at Moody, his face was completely neutral, but his eyes glinted intensely.

"It is dangerous for anyone to know the entire story, Professor." He maintained eye contact with the older wizard. "Should it be found out, the consequences would be troublesome and precarious."

Moody seemed almost taken aback by Harry's demeanor, but as he regained his composure, Harry could see the man assessing him. Alastor Moody was no fool, and had been an Auror long enough to recognize someone who's battle training was not merely from books. With his real eye, Moody looked toward Dumbledore, then turned his full attention back on the younger wizard. His lips quirked upwards in his strange smile.

"Things can never be easy with you, can they, Potter?" Mad-Eye asked with a slight shake of his head.

"Of course not, Professor. It's my curse," Harry replied, with a sardonic grin of his own.

With a slight chuckle, Moody turned to Dumbledore. "You know of what truly happened?"

The headmaster nodded. "That I do, Alastor."

Nodding, Moody looked between Harry and Albus for a moment. "Very well. I'll concede, for now." Focussing on Harry, he went on. "But watch yourself, Potter. You never do know who may not accept that. Constant-"

"Vigilance. I understand, sir," Harry said, and Moody gave a gruff laugh.

"Well, now that's settled, doesn't Harry have a written exam to sit?" asked Dumbledore, the twinkling of his eyes bright in the morning light.

"For what it's worth," Moody grumbled, forcing himself out of his chair.

Harry stood as well, and raised an eyebrow at the Defence professor.

Dumbledore was the one to explain. "Alastor is not of the mind that books or written work give any useful experience in defending oneself from the Dark Arts."

"They do say that the quill is mightier than the sword," Harry responded.

"I'd like to see a scholar put down his quill and wield a sword. Probably impale himself and save the enemy the trouble," Moody growled.

Chuckling, Harry waved a farewell at the headmaster and followed Moody out of the office.

* * *

The rest of Harry's exams were nearly boring in comparison to his first two. Other than meeting with the professors he hadn't yet seen, all of whom were very happy to see him back, and concealing the full extent of his knowledge, the next few days passed rather peacefully. 

Mostly he was able to avoid other students, though a couple of times he was forced into a reunion. None were as volatile as the one with Ron, making it easier on Harry, albeit they were all somewhat awkward.

He continued to keep a cheerful mood around others, especially his godfather and Remus, keeping any negative emotion hidden until he was alone in his room. Every night he would Disapparate to outside of Hogsmeade, into a clearing well hidden near the edge of the Dark Forest that Dumbledore had told him about in passing. There he would set up security wards and deal with his thoughts as he continued training his body in the way he had been taught. Though that didn't leave much time for sleeping, Harry was unconcerned, knowing well how hard he could push himself.

The morning after his last placement exam, he was called into a meeting with the headmaster and the head of Gryffindor house. Both were pleased to tell him that he had passed very well, and was absolutely able to fit back into his year. As McGonagall handed him his timetable, she congratulated him on his above average results in the tests. He accepted both her words and the parchment with a genuine smile, then caught Dumbledore's gaze beside her. The headmaster offered him a wink and a lemon drop, and Harry gave a small laugh.

Though she seemed slightly confused by the two wizards' interactions, McGonagall merely shook her head and informed Harry that he was to start back in classes that day. He nodded slowly, and she placed her hand on his shoulder.

Harry smiled, glancing down at his timetable. His first class would be Charms, followed by Transfiguration, then a double period of Defence Against the Dark Arts. _All in all, not too bad,_ he thought._ At least I don't have to suffer through Potions or History of Magic until tomorrow._

"Now, Harry, why don't you go down to breakfast? I'm sure all of your friends would be pleased," Dumbledore suggested. "In fact, Minerva, we should probably be heading down ourselves."

McGonagall nodded and herded Harry out the door before her. Though he went calmly, Harry was suddenly hit with a fearful feeling. He thought over that as they walked, concerned by the force of it. He was nervous about getting back in the mainstream of Hogwarts, but this wasn't mild agitation. It was almost as though something was going happen and it wasn't going to be good. His instincts were typically right, and they'd been honed by the training of the last couple years. Harry carefully extended his senses, scanning the halls as he walked, keeping alert of minute changes.

Nothing occurred during the trip to the front hall, and as they were fairly late to breakfast, they didn't encounter any students. Both Dumbledore and McGonagall patted his shoulder and gave him words of reassurance as they left him to go in the teacher's entrance, though Harry only vaguely registered and responded to them.

Once alone in the Front Hall, Harry glanced around, but still didn't sense anything out of the ordinary. With a deep breath, he placed a hand on the latch and pushed open the doors to the Great Hall. Everything was arranged in the same way as before he had left, and the morning light shined over the occupants of the hall from both the charmed ceiling and the windows. As he slipped in, the noise level was fairly high, until he was spotted. As the students hushed their neighbours, pointing him out, he kept a calm visage.

He scanned the room, noticing both the headmaster and deputy headmistress take their places at the Head Table. After a moment, he turned to the Gryffindor table, inwardly wincing at the silence that echoed around him. Harry walked forward a couple of steps, and the hall was snapped out of its stupor.

The force of the voices nearly made him wish he'd cast a silencing spell, and several of his old friends and housemates jumped up and surrounded him, talking wildly. Managing to smile brightly at everyone, he was nonetheless more than grateful when Dumbledore rose and told the students in no uncertain terms to sit down quietly.

Harry found himself pulled toward the Gryffindor table, and sat down as his classmates pushed to get closer to him. He took a deep breath, and looked around, seeing many several faces watching him, even from the other house tables.

"Harry!" cried someone, and Harry was suddenly grabbed around the shoulders by a small form with long red hair.

"H-hey, Ginny," Harry said, finding his breathing slightly cut off.

"Oh, sorry!" exclaimed Ginny, pulling back slightly. "Ron and Hermione said you were back, but the rest of us hadn't seen you! Mum is going to have an aneurysm when she finds out!"

Harry turned to her and gave her a smile as she finally released him. Behind her stood Hermione and his old dormmates, except for Ron. Glancing along the table, he saw the tall redhead mid-way down, studiously staring into his porridge. Harry shook his head slightly and turned back to the others.

"Harry, it's great to see you! What happened?" Neville Longbottom asked, sitting down next to Ginny, who'd forced several people aside to give them room.

"Neville, I told you already, remember?" Hermione said, her tone exasperated. She shook her head and gave Harry a quick hug, sitting on his other side. "Hi, Harry. I wondered when you'd be back in school. Did you take all of your placement tests? Professor McGonagall said that's what you were doing. What were your scores? Are you allowed back in regular classes? Did you know that Remus and Sirius are teaching Defence? I'm so glad you're back. This well be great year. What do you think? I already explained to most of the Gryffindors what you told us about the time you've been gone. I thought that would be easier for you. Are you all right? And why are you looking at me like that?"

Harry blinked at her, and several of the students around them snickered. She glared at them all, and they quickly ducked their heads. Harry smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione, everything's great. As for all of your questions, let me see," he said, then paused for a moment. "Er, well- yes, pretty good, yes, yes, this will be, yes, and because I'm glad to see some things never change."

It was Hermione's turn to look startled. After a moment, she worked through his answers and gave him a large grin.

"See, I knew someone would be able to understand me," she stated, crossing her arms smugly.

Several of the Gryffindors around them were looking at Harry again, this time with slight awe. He chuckled and grabbed a glass of pumpkin juice, taking a deep drink.

As he put it down, Neville addressed him again. "Harry, can you tell us where you've been? Yes, Hermione, I know you told us, but I want to hear from Harry," Neville explained as the brunette looked to speak.

Harry briefly glanced out a window, seeing the clear blue sky washed out by the sun. Turning back to the eager faces around him, he started his prepared explanation.

After finishing, he waited as the others thought over his words. Looking up at the Head Table, he saw some of the teachers watching him. Snape scowled as Harry caught his eye, and Harry sighed inwardly. Past the Potions master, both Remus and Sirius grinned at him.

"Harry?" Ginny asked carefully. "Why can't you tell us anymore? Is it dangerous?"

Harry turned his gaze on her and nodded. "Yeah, it is."

For a moment no one spoke, then Neville grabbed a plate of pancakes. "All right, then. If it's dangerous, then I would rather you or anyone else not be at risk," he said lightly. "Besides, it's just good that you're back, Harry."

Before Harry could respond, a sudden noise like a heavy wind drew his and everyone else's attention toward the Head Table. Several students let out exclamations, many standing as they goggled at the back of the hall.

All of the professors, including the headmaster, had completely disappeared, along with the entire table. All that was left before the students were several chairs, empty of their former occupants.

Harry was up and moving through the crowd of students when he halted, the back of his neck tingling. Another sound of wind, this time barely distinguishable in the din, sounded from behind the panicked teenagers, near the doors of the Hall.

Harry didn't have time to turn before his head burst with pain and he cried out, nearly staggering to his knees. Holding his breath, he focussed strongly on the black of his mind and called on his Occlumency. As the darkness overtook the pain, his gaze refocused on the hall.

Suddenly a soft laugh sounded from behind all of them, and Harry closed his eyes briefly. A scream echoed through the hall, followed by more, and frantic scrambling started around him. Harry opened his eyes and turned around, toward the front of the Great Hall.

"Well, this is certainly an interesting predicament, is it not?" drawled the hissing voice of Lord Voldemort.

The student body struggled backwards, away from the man before them. Voldemort smiled, chuckling darkly. Flanking him were several Death Eaters, their masks stark against their dark hooded cloaks.

Voldemort himself stood calmly before the young witches and wizards, apparently joyful with his frightened reception. He took a step closer and more scared cries rang out. His robes billowed around his thin form even in the still air, the deep green draping impressively. Though at his side, his hand held his wand and he flicked it outwards. The house tables disappeared.

As the students rushed as far as they could from the monstrous figure of the Dark Lord, he walked forward once again.

"Fear not, little children," Voldemort said softly, though all heard. "I mean thee no harm. I have merely come to give you this- an offer. Or a warning. However you may take it." His red eyes scanned over the group of fearful students. "I wish those of you worthy to join me. Those that do not, will die. This school can not save you, as you can clearly see."

Abruptly his eyes locked with an angry emerald gaze standing before the other students. Voldemort smiled condescendingly.

"Ah, Harry Potter," he greeted. "I did tell you we would meet again very soon, did I not?" Scanning the others behind Harry, he said, "No one will save you, should you chose wrong or are impure. Not Dumbledore, the Ministry, the Order of the Phoenix, nor Harry Potter."

Voldemort walked forward, stopping in the middle of the hall. His men stayed near the door. The Dark Lord waved his wand once more, and Harry was pulled several feet toward him.

Many voices yelled out from behind him, but Harry ignored it. As he regained his footing, he held his wand tightly. Locking eyes again with Riddle, he allowed his Occlumency to push any emotions and memories to the back of his mind.

"Hello, Tom."

* * *

A/N: Hope you're enjoying the story! Please review and let me know.

All of my original spells are in Latin. Feel free to use them if you wish. If you do, let me know, I'd like to read your story. (If you write, whether you use anything of mine or not, I'd like to take a look. Let me know, and I'll check the stories out!)

Latin:  
_Retegere- _to reveal (Revealing Charm)  
_Revelare- _to unveil (Unveiling Charm)  
_Capistrare- _to muzzle (Muzzling Curse, must be removed with Finite)  
_Frigidum- _dispassionate (Dementor Destroying Curse)  
_Cachinno- _to laugh loudly (Boggart Destroying Curse)  
_Retis- _net (Netting Charm)

Now, I told you to let me know if you wanted a hint regarding what is upcoming, and the one person who answered that asked for one. So, if you do not wish to read it, skip over the words in between the lines. Keep in mind this teaser is vague, as it is just that- to tease.

* * *

Hint - Come the time where the barrier between worlds is at their lowest, an old enemy and a new foe use it to their advantage. By mistake, more than what they had planned occurs, and four individuals are forced together in a place only one knows.  
Check my warnings in the summary for one of the things I have planned, and know that it is coming eventually. Sometimes things get revealed that change appearances.

* * *

Don't hate me for that! Rest assured that everything is now speeding up and will culminate soon! 

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
-Zenn


	17. Resumere

Chapter Seventeen- Resuming

_"Hello, Tom."_

The hall fell completely silent as Lord Voldemort narrowed his eyes. Harry felt the Dark Lord's overwhelming rage emanating from him, and could sense the equal mix of shock and confusion from everyone else.

"Oh, forgive me, Tom," Harry drawled, face betraying nothing but his own anger. "I don't believe everyone here knows your name. Shall I introduce you?"

Though he realized that it may be considered reckless to taunt the man before him, Harry found the urge too extreme to discourage. The persona he wore when faced against enemies was fully in force, with all hint of his churning emotions hidden from even his own conscious mind. He was tense as he watched Riddle, his wand hand pointing unerringly at his foe.

"Oh, now, Harry," Voldemort answered back in the same patronizing tone, "I think all are well aware of just who I am, so we gain little with the social niceties. You would do well to _hold your tongue_." The glare Riddle levelled upon Harry promised retribution should he continue.

Uncaring, Harry shook his head lightly. "I somehow doubt that most know that half-blood Tom Marvolo Riddle is none other than Lord Voldemort. Of course, some do- like those you attempted to use nearly five years ago to regain power."

Riddle jerked slightly as several quiet exclamations echoed through the Great Hall, many from his own men. Harry could see the man grip his wand tightly, clearing fighting the want to use it. Though he didn't understand why the Dark Lord hadn't yet attacked him, Harry stood ready should he try. However, Voldemort merely smiled wickedly.

"Harry, what do you think to accomplish with such statements?" Riddle asked with a dangerous inflection in his hissing voice.

"I really don't know," Harry flippantly responded. He smirked slightly. "Perhaps I'm just trying to figure out why exactly you haven't just cursed any of us. Is there a problem, _Tom_?"

Though his manner was insinuating an issue with Riddle's magic, Harry had figured out that the man may actually not be able to harm the students in the hall. As of yet, neither Voldemort nor his Death Eaters had come near the students, beyond Riddle's pulling Harry closer. By baiting him, there was a chance he could prove the theory. Keeping the Dark Lord's attention squarely on him, so he would be the one injured if his assumption was incorrect, Harry stepped closer. Someone whimpered quietly behind him.

When Riddle did nothing but sneer at him, Harry widened his smirk. "One would think you would take advantage of such an opportunity."

One of the cloaked figures near the door shifted, and Voldemort gestured sharply for him to remain still. "I plan on having many more _opportunities_, as uncouth as that word sounds," Riddle stated quietly, though no less menacingly. "Nothing will stand in my way."

"Really?" Harry asked moderately. "Because it appears that I am, right now."

"Have no fear, Harry Potter, had I wished you dead at this moment, you would no longer be breathing," Riddle assured him.

"Well, it's good to know you only want me dead at some meetings, _Tom Riddle_," Harry retorted. "Not that wanting it has made it happen."

Harry knew that Hogwarts itself had many means of protecting its occupants, and now wondered, based on the enemies' lack of movement, though it allowed them entrance, whether it might not give them leave to curse the students. At any rate, he had only to delay them until help arrived, preferably in the form of the professors, if they were able to return from where ever they had been Portkeyed. The Order members from outside the school would no doubt have been alerted by the wards at this point, but their assistance would take longer to appear. Harry held no thought that the Ministry would be of much help.

"Now, now, Harry," said Riddle, a smirk of his own appearing. "I have only come here to offer these fine young wizards and witches that which I offered you, not so long ago."

Movement and hushed gasps behind Harry alerted him to the fact that the other students were considering what Voldemort had just let slip. Harry's expression changed to a sneer as he realized that the man was attempting to discredit him.

"You know, Tom, you really can't do more damage to my reputation than you already have," Harry informed him, though inwardly he winced. "Everyone believes whatever the latest gossip holds."

"Do these rumour-mongers know of your actions of a few nights ago, young Harry?" Riddle questioned acerbically. "About your little jaunt to a coastline village, or your _visit_ with a certain child that turned up rather dead?"

Harry blinked and his jaw tensed as he realized to what the Dark Lord was alluding. He had no idea how the man knew of it, but Harry's breath caught in his throat at the thought of others finding out.

Swallowing thickly, Harry allowed his own eyes to narrow darkly. "Why don't you slither back to your little snake den, as you apparently are completely unable to attack me? I'm sure that help will soon appear, and you must be making your escape, like the coward you are." Harry raised his wand higher and flicked it slightly towards the Death Eaters. "Take your little pets with you, if they still want to follow a half-blooded weakling."

Harry knew then that he had pushed far enough, as Riddle's eyes flashed crimson. The Dark Lord raised his wand, garnering screams from the students, and snarled the Cruciatus Curse without apparent thought. Immediately, Harry countered with a quick mild spell, deciding to connect their wands, as a shield would not block the curse heading for him.

Before their spells could meet, a wall of oscillating translucent colours rose in the centre of the floor, absorbing them as they hit each side. Voldemort breathed out in a hiss as Harry watched the shielding wall recede back into the stone beneath their feet. Glancing back up, Harry saw Riddle's frustrated expression and realized that the man had known he couldn't curse the students, but had clearly not wanted them to know as such.

Wondering if the school's apparent safeguard worked both ways, Harry shot off a sudden Disarming Charm, only to see the wall of colour rise again and block it. Shrugging lightly, he locked eyes with Riddle.

"As you can see, snake-ling, you have little more chance of cursing me than I do of you," Voldemort hissed, and by the shifting of the students behind him, Harry recognized that the man was speaking in Parseltongue. "Make no mistake, though, my little lion-snake, the next time we meet, there will be nothing to save you."

"Nor will there be any protection for you," Harry returned, his words too hissed in snake language.

Riddle chuckled darkly, then stopped abruptly. Harry smirked once again as he registered what had startled the man. Beyond the doors of the Great Hall, several shouts could be heard, as well as blasting noises as those outside attempted to break in.

Turning back to Harry, Voldemort reverted once again to English. "Encourage your schoolmates to consider my proposal, Harry," he drawled. "As for us, we'll meet again, I'm sure."

"As am I, _serpens_," Harry muttered as Riddle and his men called upon their Portkeys and were whisked away.

For a moment, he stood staring at the place Voldemort had been, the full extent of what had just occurred nearly overwhelming him. Silently cursing his mental weakness, Harry cleared his thoughts forcefully and raised his wand. Pointing to the hall doors, he murmured several releasing spells, then lowered his arm as they burst open.

Several professors strode inside, Dumbledore in the lead, flanked immediately by McGonagall and Snape. They glanced around for any sign of threats, then turned almost as one to Harry, who hadn't moved from his position in front of the still cowering students. As he caught the headmaster's eye, he noticed motion behind him, as the other young wizards and witches moved forward slightly.

He vaguely registered his name spoken softly almost directly beside him, as Hermione slowly approached, but didn't have time to turn before Sirius ran over and grabbed his shoulders.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed, looking his godson over for injury. "Oh, Merlin! Are you all right!"

Harry pulled back from his godfather's grip, shrugging Sirius's hands off in discomfort, and nodding quickly. "Yes, I'm fine, Sirius. I think everyone is," Harry told him neutrally.

Blinking at Harry's slight retreat and tone, Sirius didn't have a chance to speak again, as Dumbledore stepped up to them.

"Harry, are you well?" Albus questioned quietly. At Harry's affirmative, the headmaster nodded and turned toward the other faculty. "Would the Heads of the Houses please see to their students? Take them to their respective Common rooms, then report to my office. All others assist, then join me." Glancing at the students, who still looked nervous and were shooting unnerved looks at Harry, he then said, "Do not worry. You are no longer in danger, I assure you. Please go to your Common rooms with your Head of House."

Dumbledore gestured for Harry to come with him, and as Sirius refused point blank to leave his side, they swiftly made their way out of the Great Hall. The trip to the headmaster's office was completely silent; Harry studiously stared straight ahead as they walked, and Sirius watched him with concern, which Harry ignored.

He'd long ago learnt to deal with negative situations by remaining detached and focussed, and he couldn't bring himself to allow Sirius to try to parent him. At the moment, Harry wasn't comfortable with anyone too near him, not with what was pushing in his mind to be remembered, having just faced his old tormentor. Narrowing his eyes at just that thought of the Dark Lord, Harry clenched his jaw, lengthening his stride.

Reaching the office in little time, the group stepped off of the swirling staircase and walked through the door. Dumbledore ushered both of them into chairs, then gazed shrewdly at Harry.

"Harry, I need you to tell me what happened," Albus quietly ordered, dispensing with the usual pleasantries.

Harry looked back at him, raising an eyebrow, then glanced imperceptibly toward Sirius. Locking eyes with the headmaster's, he waited without speaking.

Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Sirius, perhaps you would wait outside for a moment? This might be easier that way."

Sirius blinked once, then looked between Harry and the headmaster. "No, I'm not about to leave Harry right now, Albus."

Before Dumbledore could answer, Harry spoke up. "Sirius, it might be better if you did. Please."

"Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice slightly hurt.

Harry glanced out the window with a sigh, then at his godfather. "Please, Sirius."

Sirius nodded slowly, his eyes showing that he didn't understand. Harry saw that he'd made the man feel bad, but merely turned away and closed his eyes until he'd heard the door to the office close. For a moment, Harry merely looked at the floor, then finally raised his gaze.

Taking a deep breath and steeling his emotions, Harry dropped back into the persona he wore during warlike situations. Nothing was shown on his face, and his eyes contained only determination and strength. He immediately got to the business of informing Dumbledore of all that had occurred.

The headmaster didn't interrupt him, though he looked quite thoughtful and nodded a few times. Upon finishing his recount, Harry leaned back and fixed the same look on Dumbledore that the man had given him when they had sat down.

Smiling slightly, Albus nodded. "I suppose you have some questions?"

"Indeed," Harry answered quietly. "First, I would ask how they got in, but really, that would just be redundant, as it is obvious they found some way through the wards. What I have to question, is why did the wards allow Portkeys through? Did the school board, or whomever takes care of that issue, learn nothing from the Triwizard Third Task?"

"I am afraid that it appears not," Dumbledore said regretfully. "Now, though, I will personally force through extra wards immediately."

With a quirk of the lips, Harry then said, "I assume Riddle made the Head Table into a Portkey? How did he manage that, and how was he able to make the House Tables disappear? I am surprised Hogwarts allowed that."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "You address the school as a sentient being?"

"Any place imbued with such magic would undoubtably develop almost a cognizance. As you well know, Headmaster," Harry stated in light exasperation. "I would ask that you not pry into what I know or have learned these last years, as I am not of the patience to go along with it. Please, just explain how Tom Riddle was able to manifest in and manipulate the Great Hall. Not to mention, threaten me and the other students. Or should I just see what I can find out in the library, since you never have been one to give me a straight or thorough answer." Though his voice remained level, Harry's tone was sharp as he finished.

"Of course I will tell you, my boy. There is no need to get caustic," Dumbledore chided softly.

"My apologies, Headmaster," Harry murmured. "Please continue."

"I do believe that Voldemort was able to have such ease as he did based on his blood. Being an heir would make it much more simple to make the school do as you wished. As long as it wasn't done to outright harm another, that is," Dumbledore explained. "The Great Hall has always been guarded against its occupants cursing one another. While those wards can be disabled for short periods, as during that ill-conceived Duelling Club those years ago, they reestablish themselves to protect everyone. As you saw.

"Now, Voldemort was able to cast spells to create Portkeys- you are right about the Head Table, as soon as all of us seated touched it, we were sent away- and he was able to move things, including yourself, but he could not inflect injury upon any person."

"I see," Harry said with a nod. "Tom clearly did not want me or the other students to know that. He wanted to show that he could manage to override our defences. His whole reason for showing up was to put us off balance."

"Yes," Albus agreed. "I don't think he knew that you would be there, or that you would foil his plans, once again, though."

Harry snorted softly. "Something tells me that he was more than happy with what he did accomplish. The other students are once again questioning my allegiances. He also knows of, and alluded to, the situation in that village the Death Eaters attacked a few nights ago."

Albus's expression didn't change, though his eyes were piercing. "Do you believe he was able to access your thoughts at the time, or your memories of it?"

"No, not to my knowledge," Harry responded. "All I can think is that someone was watching." Harry sighed, shaking his head. "But I should have realized that. I don't understand how . . . Unless-"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and waited for Harry to continue. After a moment of silence, the headmaster said, "Unless, what?"

Harry refocused a sharp gaze on Dumbledore. "It had to have been a Vampyr. Nothing else accounts for my not sensing them, not to mention that the Ministry and Order sensors detected no one else once they all arrived in the village, as I believe you mentioned," he explained. "We can guess then that it is Tom's source."

"Yes," Albus murmured, thoughtful again. "One thing, though. By your indications, and your wish to keep your true abilities hidden, you imply that Voldemort doesn't know what you are capable of. Nor was that revealed during the attack upon you, Remus, and Sirius. How is that possible, if, as you once said, you believe this Vampyr source is a Jumper, and that he can sense you?"

Harry glanced aside, staring out the window as he thought. Finally, he turned back to the headmaster. "I was known somewhat in the Other Realm, though not very extensively, overall, and not by everyone. Neither was it commonly known that I completed my training so well." Harry gestured towards his cheek, acknowledging the hidden phoenix symbol. "I would say that this creature knows not of it. As for the fight, not many of the enemy were left in a state to describe what happened, and even if it was watched, I didn't reveal much.

"Tom's overconfidence, and his belief in his own superiority, causes him to underestimate his opponents. He is proud of his strength in wielding wandless magic, as I well know," Harry said, his voice turning dark, "and therefore, doesn't see that others may be as capable. Any that he may have seen of mine, he would, by all chance, assume was wild or accidental."

Again, Albus nodded agreement, but his expression was still slightly troubled. "We are making many assumptions," he said quietly. "We can not know for sure if that is true."

"No, we can not," Harry admitted. "But based on what we know, we'll have to do what we can. We just have to hope that they tip their hand first."

As Dumbledore agreed, a knock sounded at the door. "Ah, the others must be arriving." Turning a twinkling look on Harry, the elder wizard then said, "Classes are cancelled for the day. Why don't you go into my library. It will keep you at hand, should I need to speak again to you, and I'm certain you'll find something in there of interest. And with the door closed, there couldn't possibly be a way for you to hear everything that is said out here." Albus covered a slight smirk by popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

Harry smiled, his eyes containing a glint reminiscent of the man in front of him, and went quickly into the room to which the headmaster gestured. Listening to the proceedings outside, he found that the door seemed to have a charm to clarify sound on it, as he heard clearer through it than if he had left it ajar. Harry even found himself wondering if he would need to place a quieting spell when the conversation got especially loud after Dumbledore finished his explanations of what had happened.

As the several hours long meeting progressed, most of what he overheard was what he had expected. Other than the obvious, many of the professors were concerned by what they had been told by the students. Apparently word was around that Harry was either in league with the Dark Lord, or that it was because of him that the man got in the school. As Harry narrowed his eyes in annoyance, he was startled when those that defended his loyalties included, besides Dumbledore, Remus, and Sirius, the Potions master.

He kept his attention firmly on the business of war, not allowing himself to succumb to his own thoughts. Only his most severe training kept the grip on his emotions, but while continuing to listen, he did use the time to also focus his attentions on exploring the headmaster's library.

Knowing that Dumbledore fully expected him to do as such, Harry looked over the shelves, glancing through a few volumes that caught his eye. On a low table near a large, overstuffed sofa, he was amused to find quite a number of texts on Side Realms and Jumping. Glancing past the end table, Harry then noticed a glowing bowl on a bottom shelve.

Stepping around the sofa, Harry knelt by the bookshelf, still paying half a mind to the professors. As he leaned down, he realized that the bowl was in fact a Pensieve. Harry raised his eyebrow and peered inside, keeping far back from the swirling mist of thought, so as not to get pulled in.

With a muttered spell, Harry activated the memories, watching several flow in succession. As they played, his lips quirked into a slight smile as he recognized that they all revolved around him. As Trelawney appeared and started speaking in a halting voice that he'd heard once, Harry nodded._ So, I knew Dumbledore was the one to have witnessed this blasted thing,_ he thought as he rose back to his feet.

He noticed different ones of Hogwarts's staff leaving, then returning, and he remained in the library the entire time. Twice during his isolation, the house-elves sent in food, of which he forced himself to eat some. Dumbledore came in a few times to see how he was getting on, but was called out almost immediately by another visitor. Harry found the fact that none of those talking with the headmaster had any idea he was listening in most refreshing. Many seemed to like putting in their opinions of him, and Harry heard everything they said.

Shortly after dinner, Dumbledore returned to the library as Harry was scanning a volume about the school. After loaning it to the younger wizard, the headmaster indicated for Harry to come back out to the office.

"I trust that was informative, my boy?" Albus asked blithely.

"Most, Headmaster," Harry stated. "Especially just who of my teachers is of the opinion that I'm evil."

Dumbledore snorted softly. "Never mind that, Mr Potter. They will eventually see the truth, or if not? It won't ultimately matter."

After another short conversation, the headmaster finally dismissed Harry, sending him to the Gryffindor common room. With a farewell, Harry made his way out of the office, walking through the silent halls. As the students had all been allocated to their respective houses, no one was roaming the school except for select professors. Harry avoided all of those he saw with ease.

Arriving at the portrait of the Pink Lady, Harry took a deep breath. Murmuring the password that Dumbledore had given him, he gracefully climbed through the hole and stopped, hearing the painting close behind him. As everyone in the Common room turned and stared, Harry stepped further in. He took notice of the students' reactions, mentally cataloguing them according to what they seemed. From the side of his vision, he saw Hermione rise from beside Ron, who was carefully avoiding Harry's eye. As she walked over, she smiled.

"Harry, oh, thank Merlin that you're all right!" Hermione exclaimed, giving him a quick hug, which startled several of the watching Gryffindors. "I'm so glad the Great Hall has those protections. I can't believe how you handled Voldemort. Anyway, where have you been? What's going on?"

"Well, I've been with the headmaster, mostly," Harry explained to her, though he made his voice loud enough for the room to hear. "He is instituting new wards to protect the school. The faculty is making sure this won't happen again. They're taking care of it."

Whispers broke out, then a voice near the wall called out, "What about you? What do you have to say about You-Know-Who?"

Harry glanced in the boy's direction. "No, as a matter of fact, I don't know who. Hermione, do you?"

She snickered, and no one tried addressing him again. He bid goodnight to Hermione, claiming he wanted an early night, and started to go up the stairs to the Seventh Year male dorms. As he went, Harry realized that most of the others were shying away and ignoring him. Neville and Ginny shook their heads at their peers' behaviours and called out their goodnights to him. He smiled, nodded, then continued upstairs.

The start of the next day proceeded in much the same manner. Neville was the only one of his dormmates to speak directly to him, though he caught Ron glancing at him several times with thoughtful expressions. Dean Thomas gave him a rather shaky grin, and Seamus Finnigan practically ran out of the room as soon as he got out of bed. Harry merely rolled his eyes, and got dressed.

The Great Hall was subdued, and Harry noticed many of the students were nervous and eating quite quickly as they continually glanced up at the Head Table, as though to assure themselves that the teachers were still around. Harry ate in silence and made his way to his first class since his return- Double Potions.

The class filtered in, several members from each house, as it was a NEWT program. All gave Harry a wide berth, even Hermione, though that was more from Ron keeping a grip on her hand, then anything. Snape glared venomously at Harry for a moment, then started the class, ignoring him after he gave his instructions. Harry found himself preferring that manner, until he noticed the man watching his movements suspiciously over the paper he was pretending to grade. Harry sighed, and continued his potion, though he was careful how he did it.

The next couple hours passed in veritable silence, besides the hissing and boiling of the cauldrons. As Harry added the last ingredient, something hit his leg and he glanced down. In that moment, a vial of dragon's blood crashed into his potion, breaking in the mixture. As the compound exploded, Harry flicked out his wand and cast a blocking charm around it. Unfortunately, in his haste to protect others, some of the scalding liquid lashed across his arm, and he clenched his jaw as it burned through his robe sleeve.

"POTTER! What do you think you are doing!" Snape's voice carried across the room as he strode over, robes swirling ominously.

"Casting a Blocking Spell, sir," Harry responded, careful to keep his voice neutral. He ignored the stinging of his arm.

As the man reached him, the Potions master's eyes slitted dangerously. "Funny, Mr Potter," Snape drawled, pulling his own wand. Several students flinched. "_Evanesco_! How, even in your extreme idiocy, did you manage to drop an entire vial of Dragon's Blood into your cauldron!"

"I didn't, _sir_. As you should know, since you were watching the whole time," Harry shot back angrily, garnering equal gasps and snickers from the other students.

Snape sneered. "And just who do you blame for this mess, _Mr Potter_?"

Harry glanced at Malfoy. "I believe it came from that direction, _sir_."

"How dare you!" Malfoy exclaimed. "Professor, you can't believe I would do something like that!"

"Of course not, Mr Malfoy," Snape assured him. "Potter, your first day and already you're back in habit. Twenty points from Gryffindor for the ruined potion, twenty more for lying and accusing a follow student."

Before Harry could retort, the signal sounded for the end of class. The students looked at Snape, unsure if they were allowed to leave.

"Place your vials on my desk and go quickly," Snape snapped. "Mr Potter, you will return for detention after dinner."

Harry closed his eyes and forced a nod. Grabbing his bag, he returned the ingredients to their proper places and made for the door with the rest of the class.

As soon as he entered the hall, Malfoy yelled out, "Oi, Potter! What a way to return. Just my way of _welcoming_ you back." The Slytherins cheered.

Shaking his head, Harry turned away and saw Snape coming out of the classroom.

"Wait, Potter. One thing," Malfoy said quickly. "Yesterday? What did the Dark Lord mean when he asked about your latest actions?"

Harry glanced back at him. "I am sure there is no need for me to explain myself to you. Frankly, Malfoy, you aren't worth my time." With that, Harry turned his back to the blonde, clearly taunting him by acting as though unconcerned should the boy attack.

Malfoy scowled, then it changed to a lecherous sneer. "Oh, Potter, I get it. He must have meant you returned to your old position in the Death Eaters. My father explained, you see, about what happened two years ago."

Harry set his jaw and continued walking away, through the gaping students. He heard one question Malfoy. The Slytherin laughed.

"Oh, yes, Potter had an exclusive job with them," he explained loudly. "As the Dark Lord's _whore_."

Harry halted in mid-step, his eyes flashing, and slowly turned back around.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you are enjoying! Please review, I love to know what you all think. 

Now, I have begun a LiveJournal. Information about my story, as well as responses to reviews that call for it, will be posted there. Click on the homepage button on my profile to link directly. Or the link is -

w w w (dot) livejournal (dot) com (slash) users (slash) moonpoetessz (slash)  
Remove the words and replace with the symbols. Which is probably obvious, but whatever. :)

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,

Zenn


	18. Res

Chapter Eighteen- Situations

_Harry halted in mid-step, his eyes flashing, and slowly turned back around._

"Oh yes," Draco continued over the gasps echoing across the mass of students. He smirked, still quite oblivious to the rage flowing through the green-eyed Gryffindor. "My father's told me all about how the Death Eaters took turns after the Dark Lord was done."

It was only then that Malfoy noticed Harry walking slowly, deliberately, towards him. He fought a flash of alarm as he got a look at the other's eyes, which seemed little more than green flames, and squared his shoulders as he fingered the wand in his pocket.

Snape, meanwhile, was glaring at his Slytherin student, disbelieving of just what little amount of impulse control the boy had. _Fool_, Severus thought, then he noticed the look of murder Potter was wearing. Stepping toward Draco, with the intent to rebuke him, he stopped short when Potter spoke.

"Is that so?" Harry questioned in a deadly whisper, though everyone heard every word. "Your father would know how to do something like that, I suppose. What with all the practice he's had spreading your legs."

Severus nearly choked in shock, though the unbiased part of his mind laughed. The hall around them seemed to take in a collective startled breath. Harry moved closer to the blonde wizard, who was staring with his mouth slightly open. The predatory Gryffindor didn't pay any attention to his audience, all of whom where looking between the adversaries which mixed expressions of stunned horror and apprehension.

Harry's face gained a smirk that was considerably more virulent than the Slytherin could have ever managed. "Yes, I did overhear him bragging about how you loved it when he gave it to you rough."

A muscle twitched in Malfoy's jaw, then he was yanking out his wand. "How dare you!"

Before the blonde had even managed to pull the wood clear of his robes, Harry had his pointing straight at the other's chest. Eyes flaming, the young warrior shot a burst of raw power across the hall, knocking several students to the side and Snape back through the door to his classroom.

The blast struck Malfoy in a burning flash, sending him into the air and backwards several metres. Striking a wall at the end of the hall with a painful crack, the Slytherin slid to the ground, slumping sideways. The front of his robes were charred, and a faint odour of burnt flesh filled the passageway.

Walking through the middle of the parted students, Harry made his way towards his downed opponent. Recovering, his classmates stood watching, most not brave enough to stop him. Dimly he heard Hermione call to him, but she was quickly silenced by the others morbidly wishing to see what would happen. They watched as Malfoy shook his head and caught sight of the Gryffindor.

Forcing his vision to clear, he pushed up the wall in a panic. Draco then jerked away from it and finally managed pull his wand, brandishing it slightly wildly in his nearly disoriented state. Suddenly, it was wrenched from his fist, landing cleanly in Potter's free hand without a word spoken.

As Harry caught sight of Malfoy's shock and fear, he couldn't help smiling ferally. The other wizard swallowed, then narrowed his eyes hatefully. Clearly gathering himself, Malfoy tensed to attack. Harry was not surprised and allowed the boy to come at him.

As Malfoy charged, Harry ducked a high punch, then swung upward. His blow landed cleanly on the blonde's jaw, driving him back. Malfoy lunged again, and Harry saw a flash of silver near the other's side. The dagger came straight at his heart, but as it neared Harry smirked.

With a sharp movement, he grabbed the Slytherin's wrist in a crushing grip and squeezed. Eyes widening, Malfoy fell to his knees with a grimace, his knife falling from his slack hand. Just before it hit the floor, it veered upward and floated threatening towards Malfoy's throat.

Glancing up at his opponent, Draco saw Potter look intently at the dagger, then lock eyes with his own grey ones. Realizing that the Gryffindor was wandlessly controlling the blade, he took a shaky breath, struggling to not let a moan slip past his lips as the hand on his arm compressed the bone beneath the skin.

An emerald green gaze bore into the Slytherin's, and with a dizzying rush, Draco realized that Potter was fishing through his mind. He didn't have even a chance to wonder how the wizard holding him captive had learned Legilimency, before flashes of memories shot across his consciousness.

Harry didn't bother using his wand or a spell as he searched the blonde's mind, merely sifting through what he found as he focussed into the other's eyes. As he located the remembered conversations between Draco and Lucius Malfoy, Harry scanned them, looking for how much the boy really knew. Finding that the extent of the Slytherin's information was the vague references he'd already admitted to, Harry withdrew abruptly, leaving Malfoy gasping for breath.

"Listen, you little pompous, arrogant bastard, do not cross me," Harry hissed between clenched teeth. "You would do well to not fight against an enemy you have no knowledge of. Make no mistake, you know not me. Try something like this again, and it will be the last thing you ever do, do you understand?"

Glaring, Malfoy made no attempt to answer, and Harry twisted his arm sharply. His hold was nowhere near the light show he'd given Ron days ago, but was a painful warning to an enemy. Crying out lowly, the blonde tried to jerk away, but the other wizard held him still.

"Answer me, fool," Harry bit out, wrenching Malfoy's wrist once again. "Do you understand me?"

Nodding, Malfoy squeezed his eyes shut tightly, pain running up his arm. Harry straightened from where he had bent over his victim, but didn't release his grip. Suddenly a noise behind him caught his attention, and still holding the other wizard, Harry glanced over his shoulder.

Blinking, he saw a transparent wall of colour separating them from the other students and the Potion's master. Their forms were somewhat disjointed through the swirling tints and shades. It looked just like the shields within the Great Hall, and reacted the same to the curses Snape was throwing at it in an attempt to break through.

Wondering at that, Harry barely noticed the Slytherin kneeling in front of him until the boy whimpered. Looking down, he realized he was gripping Malfoy's wrist hard enough that the other's hand had gone quite pale. Relaxing his grasp, he again turned his attention back to the shield. The wall had remained throughout Harry's distraction, not dissolving as did the other ones he'd seen.

A chuckle echoed through Harry's mind and he whipped his head around looking for the cause. "Who's there?" he questioned sharply.

"Do not fear, young warrior," a soft voice answered. "You are in no danger from me."

The sound came into his head again, much like Riddle's when Harry suffered a vision, but the sense of this being was almost the opposite of the Dark Lord. It was gentle and Harry was filled with a sense of safety and security. But he was still weary.

"Who are you?" asked Harry, still scanning the hall around him.

Another chuckle, then his answer. "I am where you are."

Raising his brow, Harry snorted. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"I am where you are," repeated the voice.

"You are- what? That makes no sense, no one's here," Harry responded in annoyance.

"I am everywhere here."

Shaking his head, Harry narrowed his eyes. "Look, who ever you are, show yourself and stop your bloody riddles."

Abruptly the floor beneath his feet rippled and Harry struggled to stay upright. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, then his eyes widened. "No way."

"I knew you were intelligent, young one."

"This is crazy," Harry muttered, mostly to himself. "You can't be what I'm thinking you are."

"I am this school."

Nodding, Harry chuckled. "And I am now certifiably insane. Brilliant."

The voice laughed lightly. "Oh no, warrior, you are not insane. In fact, I would say compared to my other human friend, you are quite lucid."

"Who is your other friend?" Harry asked.

"The headmaster."

"Ah," Harry mumbled. "I don't know if that is really a good indication of my sanity. Well, anyway, if you are whom you say, why in Myrddin's name are you talking to me?"

"Because of that," stated Hogwarts. At Harry's raised eyebrow, the voice of the school explained. "You have knowledge few have had since my creation. Knowledge that those who refer to Myrddin as Merlin have never learned. Only those who have studied what has passed down from Myrddin could have been taught thus. I respond to those with such knowledge. Not that I haven't noticed your power, young warrior."

Harry ran his eyes over the stones in the wall and nodded. "All right, sure. Then, why now? Why decide to speak now?"

"Well, that would be for a couple of reasons," it answered slowly, as though contemplating something. "First, you knew me to be sentient, and you admitted to it. Thank you, by the way. I'll tell you, it's rather disheartening when almost everyone considers you to be nothing more than a pile of stones. As if rock could hold and protect as I do."

"Yes, I see your point," Harry interjected amicably, hoping it would move on.

"Regardless, I realized you were worthy to converse with, young one. And second," continued the school, "you amuse me."

"I, what?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Chuckling, it responded quickly. "Take no offense, warrior, I mean none. It is your actions I was referring to. For example, during your exam, your handling of that annoyingly irritable dolt of a Potion's master that is even now attempting to get through one of _my_ shields. Completely futile, I assure you."

With a laugh, Harry shook his head. "I have to say I'm shocked that you approve of how I acted."

"If anyone asks, I don't," it replied easily. Harry laughed again. "But as for right now, I completely agree with you."

"Now?" inquired Harry.

"Yes," Hogwarts said. "About Mr Malfoy. That little whelp needed to be taught some modesty. Badly."

Harry blinked, then glanced down, having completely disregarded the fact that he was still holding the Slytherin boy captive. Said wizard was staring at Harry with wide eyes, panic evident in his expression. It took a moment for Harry to figure out why Malfoy was so unnerved, then he realized just how it must have looked as he spoke out loud to the school talking in his head.

Laughing whole-heartedly, which only increased the other's alarm, Harry also registered that he was still magicly keeping Malfoy's dagger aloft and pointing at its owner. Bringing it around in front of the blonde, Harry touched the tip to Malfoy's neck, snickering when he pulled back.

Harry released his wrist, and Malfoy fell hard against the stone floor. Pushing up, the Slytherin struggled to right himself. Finally gaining his feet, he skirted around the grinning green-eyed wizard, nearly scraping the wall so to maintain as far a distance as he could from him.

As Harry watched in amusement, pocketing his wand and the dagger, Malfoy neared the oscillating shield, which promptly dropped. On the other side, Snape almost fell as it disappeared. Glaring at Harry, the professor was visibly taken aback when Malfoy ran over to him and grabbed his arm. When the boy spoke, Harry could hear the castle's laughter along with his own.

"Professor! Professor!" Malfoy exclaimed, looking wildly toward Harry, then to Snape. "Potter's mad. I tell you, mad! He tried to kill me! Then he started talking to himself! You have to Floo St Mungos, Professor." The blonde was panting between words. "The knife was floating, sir! Maybe he was talking to that. Oh, dear Salazar, he's dangerous, insane!"

"Calm yourself, Draco," Snape admonished, wrenching his arm free of his student's grip and glancing at the gawking students behind him. He lowered his voice. "This is not the place for such behaviour. Straighten up and act like a proper Slytherin, _now_."

Malfoy took several deep breaths and threw back his shoulders, though he glanced sharply in Harry's direction when the Gryffindor shifted his stance. Effecting a withering stare, Snape turned toward Harry, who stood calmly a few feet away.

"Potter," hissed the Potion's master. "My office, immediately."

Harry nodded agreeably and walked past them. As he made his way through his dumbfounded classmates, Harry kept his face blank and ignored their whispered words to their friends. Snape sent Malfoy to the infirmary, with the boy's lackeys following, then strode to his office, sending the observers away with a sharp rebuke.

Slipping into his office, Severus saw Potter facing away from him. With a resounding echo, he slammed the door behind him, raising an eyebrow when the boy didn't flinch, but merely turned around. Sneering, the Potion's master gestured for Potter to sit, then stalked over to tower over him.

"Are you aware that you could be expelled for your little show, _Mr Potter_?" Severus ground out in an ominous tone. When the boy gave a subtle smirk, he saw red. "_What do you have to say for yourself_!"

"It is against the rules to oust a student for defending himself, _sir_," Harry answered, staring at the wall over his teacher's shoulder.

"You were not defending yourself, you arrogant brat," Snape scathed. "That was little more than a production for an audience. What, have you missed having someone watch your every move with awe?"

"I apparently have you to do that. Why else have you been staring at me? _Sir_?" replied Harry sharply.

Eyes narrowing, Snape leaned further over Harry, forcing him to look him in the face. "Perhaps I was just wondering about the same thing Mr Malfoy was. Tell me something, _did_ you enjoy your little time with the Dark Lord? Were you too filled with shame to show your face here after it?"

Harry clenched his jaw, fighting his urge to lash out, even as his fisted hands shook with the effort. In his state of rage, he wasn't quite sure he could keep himself from doing serious damage. He felt his magic tingling, though he knew the result of using it could be deadly.

"Maybe you even carry a Mark, like so many others think. Do you, boy?" questioned the Potion's master silkily.

Angrily, Severus grabbed the younger wizard's left arm, wrenching it to expose the forearm. Just as he attempted to yank up the sleeve, he saw Potter's eyes flash bright green. A light filled his vision, and Severus found himself thrown back against the shelves of his office, breaking several full jars as he hit them.

Managing to remain upright, he blinked to clear his vision, only to be hit with another shot of power, this one sending him forward over his desk. Landing painfully on his side, Severus looked up to find Potter standing over him, glaring at him with an expression to match the Potion's master's worst.

"Do not touch me, Snape," Harry growled out, reigning in his magic once again.

As Snape went for his wand, Harry flung out a hand, flipping the man onto his back and calling the wand out of the older wizard's pocket. Flinging it across the office, it hit the wall, one end shooting a blast of sparks, then it clattered to the floor.

Breathing heavily, Harry jerked up the sleeve covering his left arm, pulling hard enough to rip the seam. Uncaring, he thrust his arm out for the other to see.

"I have never, and I will never wear another's brand, Snape," he stated in a rough voice. "Unlike some."

With that Harry turned on his heel and strode from the office, the jars shaking on their shelves as his magic swirled around him. Letting the door bang behind him, Harry increased his pace, and made his way out the first exit the school offered.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review, I love them so very much. Your opinions really help me know where the details should go.

Responses to reviews are on my livejournal, which is set as my homepage.

Now, I received a few flames where I was advised that my story was not worth it and that my characters are pathetic. I want to say that I don't appreciate insults of either me or my writing, but it's fine if you don't like either. No one is forced to read. Please remember that I, as well as everyone else, put more stock in critiques that tell what could be made better, rather than something that is degrading. Also, the mature thing to do is to sign any review, it does show you aren't a coward. There is no need to try to hurt someone.

Enough about that. For reference, Gratias is Latin for Thank You.

And Gratias to all of you.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
Zenn


	19. Continentia

Chapter Nineteen- Control

_Letting the door bang behind him, Harry increased his pace, and made his way out the first exit the school offered._

Making his way along the edge of the castle, Harry skirted around the Quidditch Pitch, ducking into shadows to avoid any other people who came by. In short order, he found himself clear of the green lawn of the grounds, and in the shade of the Dark Forest.

Once he was unable to see any of Hogwarts through the trees, Harry slowed to a walk, sighing heavily. Rebuking himself over his reactions to both Malfoy's and Snape's taunts, he stepped through the trees, following the path he'd made during the last week. Though he kept his senses heightened for danger, Harry moved nearly unseeingly along the familiar area.

Finally reaching a small and densely contained clearing, Harry slipped into it. He wandlessly invoked several wards, and allowed his guard to drop. Settling in the middle of the grass, he took off the Glamour charm and transfigured his clothes to the uniform he'd first returned to Hogwarts in. Almost immediately he felt more like himself than he had since leaving the other realm.

Dropping his head into his hands, Harry sighed once again. _What in Myrddin's name was that?_ he questioned himself._ I thought I'd bloody well controlled my damn emotions! Commander Volsunis would have my neck._ The thought of the one who had taught him so much had Harry groaning into his hands.

Harry pulled his head up and glanced at the bright sky through the dark leaves of the trees. The sun almost gave him a spotlight, where he sat. Unused to the feeling of being so exposed, Harry shifted distractedly, then stood up.

Looking down at his forearms, bare except for his gauntlets, memories ran over him. _Fighting Death Eaters as they attacked . . . clawing at his manacles in a dank cell . . . tensing as an overwhelming rush of power flowed out of him, towards a shocked room of his tormentors . . . learning to wield a blade, as a strap lashed across his arms whenever he made a mistake . . . blood running over his hands, staining them as he gripped the first sword he'd ever taken a life with . . . blood again streaming over his hands, though from his own wrists . . ._

Every image lanced against the carefully maintained calm, the studiously cultivated detachment. Hating that the very thing that had nearly killed him so many times was now the thing gripping him, Harry clenched his jaw and closed his eyes to stem the emotions.

The grass at his feet lit afire, the flames blazing outwards across the clearing. With a shout, Harry released his pulsing magic against his own wards, flinging surge after surge of power. It was never enough to rip open portals, as in Riddle's manor, but it was near it. The air rippled and throbbed, as the ground around him burned. Only the very wards he was striking kept it all from piercing through the forest circling him.

His eyes snapping open, Harry was unaware that they were glowing with power, the green flashing fire. What he felt was the distinct pounding originating at his scar and flowing through his head. Dimly, Harry registered that he'd never had to deal with this when he had lost control in the other realm.

His power expended, Harry gasped as darkness cloaked him. The wards collapsed, and the fire around him died out, leaving a charred circle. Harry attempted to keep conscious as he fell to the ground, but it was a losing battle. With a release of breath, he succumbed to the dark.

Harry woke abruptly, swallowing a pained moan. Taking in the sense of the room around him, he relaxed slightly upon noticing the signature feel of Hogwarts. Carefully, Harry opened his eyes, grimacing against the bright light assailing his vision.

A muttered word spoken beside him had the lights dimmed, and Harry focussed his gaze at the person. Blue eyes, with their usual twinkle notably muted, stared back at him. Harry tried to sit up, but lay back when a wizened hand pushed his chest down gently.

"Good to see you awake, my boy," said Dumbledore, as he removed his hand and leaned against the back of his chair.

As Harry grinned slightly, he noticed that he was in the headmaster's library, the same one he'd been in after Tom's visit. Looking around briefly, Harry was startled to see the Potions master standing in the shadows near the door. Glancing down at himself, Harry was glad to see that he wore his Hogwarts' uniform, though he had no memory of re-transfiguring his clothes. Locking eyes with Dumbledore's, Harry raised his eyebrow in question.

Nodding, Albus smiled. "I found you behind the Quidditch Pitch a short time ago, Harry. Your scar was bleeding, which was worrisome, but I assumed you were having a vision, so I brought you here. I called Professor Snape to bring some potions that I thought you might have need of."

With that, Snape walked over to the other wizards and laid a collection of vials on the table. "If that is all, Headmaster?"

"Actually, no, Severus," replied Albus. "I will need to speak to you in a moment. Would you kindly wait in my office?"

Looking as though he never wished to do anything kindly, Snape nodded curtly and stalked out of the room. Shutting the door with a flick of his hand, Albus turned back to Harry, looking him over appraisingly. He noted that the boy was shaking slightly, and was still much too pale, though he looked much improved to when Albus had found him.

"How are you feeling, now, my boy?" he asked.

"Truthfully? Like the castle fell on me," Harry replied, forcing himself to a sitting position even though the headmaster protested. Once he finally managed it, he said, "I'll be all right, though."

Palming a vial of green liquid, Dumbledore handed it to the younger wizard. "This should help the after-effects of the Cruciatus that you seem to be suffering from."

Deliberately stilling his shaking hands, Harry quirked a light smile and took the potion. "Gratias."

"You're welcome," Albus answered in an amused tone. "Now, I, of course, did not find you anywhere near the Pitch. Rather, after Hogwarts informed me that you had gone into the Forest and that there had then been a disturbance within it, I went to locate you. Imagine my surprise when I came upon you thrashing on the ground in the middle of what very well could have been a battle scene."

"I apologize, Headmaster," Harry murmured, a slight flush helping to return his colour to normal. "I was, well, rather . . . upset, and decided to lash out. Unfortunately, apparently that allowed my connection with Riddle to flare. I was pulled into his mind, but I don't think he was aware of it. He'd felt my stronger emotions, as I seem to do his, but didn't sense me in his mind."

Albus raised an eyebrow. "You are certain? Do you have any idea as to why that was?"

"No, Headmaster, other than our connection is more malleable than even he knew," Harry responded. "Given a way to, perhaps, study it, I may be able to manipulate it much the way Riddle does."

"That could very well kill you," Dumbledore stated, his gaze piercing into Harry's.

Harry nodded. "And yet, it may be the way to destroy him."

Silence took the office for several moments, allowing Harry the time he needed to recover, and Albus a chance to think the situation through. The headmaster was of course interested in what the younger wizard's bond with Voldemort could offer, but was worried. The Dark Lord could make another attempt on Harry's life, but that was only one side-effect of it.

Harry's colour had returned and his shaking had completely diminished, much quicker than was usual for someone, but it didn't change the fact that he had somehow felt the Cruciatus Curse. Enough of that would render anyone quite at a disadvantage, no matter what their physical condition may be. Albus wasn't sure everything Harry had gone through or studied, but he found himself strongly hoping that the boy knew enough to deal with what might come.

"Now, my boy," Albus said, effectively breaking the quiet. "Is there anything you could tell me of what you may have seen during your little visit to Voldemort's consciousness?"

"Only that he was rather unhappy with several of his followers," answered Harry with a wry grin. "Our link allows me not only to feel what his victims feel, though I have no understanding of why that is, but also what he feels as he casts spells. Tom was angry." Harry shook his head. "Although, by what I noticed, I believe my . . . state of displeasure had fed his somewhat. He must not have noticed that, because I would think my being upset would improve his mood quite a lot."

"Yes, I do believe you're right, Harry," Dumbledore replied.

Harry went on before the headmaster could ask the next question, his tone darkening. "As to what had happened to make him furious, I only caught a little of it. It seems that his little Death Eaters failed to retrieve something necessary to an object he is making. It involves a ritual of some type, but I didn't see or hear anything else. I do not know what the object even looks like."

"I'm sure we'll find out in time," stated Albus in a dry voice. With a chuckle, he then gestured for them to stand. "I do believe we should go into my office, as we have no doubt left Professor Snape in a dreadful mood, forcing him to wait."

Harry snorted softly, following the headmaster out of the room. As they entered, Snape glared at first toward the headmaster, then turned a downright vicious scowl on Harry. As that was in no way unexpected, given their last interaction, Harry merely found himself amused. Snape seemed to notice this, as his black eyes darkened more than normal, then he turned back to Dumbledore. Though he remained sitting in a chair before the desk as they walked over, the Potions master's entire body was extremely tense.

"Severus, thank you for waiting." Albus sat in his chair, summoning a teapot and cups. "Tea?"

"No. Thank you," Snape bit out, his lip curling as Harry took the seat next to him. "Was there something you wished to speak to me about, Headmaster?"

"Yes, there was," Albus said, then paused to take a drink from his cup. Finally, he sat it back in its saucer after a long swallow. "I believe you wished to make a report of the incident between Mr Potter, here, and Mr Malfoy."

Severus smirked. "Yes. _Mr_ Potter deliberately and consciously assaulted Mr Malfoy. Had he not . . . _disappeared_, to the _Quidditch Pitch_, as you said," the Potions master's tone was utterly disgusted, "he would have already received a punishment for his unacceptable actions."

Harry swallowed his immediate rejoinder, almost thanking the fact that he was tired, as it made him think twice before speaking. "Professor, _with all due respect_, I was reacting to an attack by Malfoy, that is all."

"Childish comments are not an attack, Mr Potter," Snape scathed. "You would do well to remember that."

"His _comments_had nothing to do with being childish, _sir_," responded Harry, even as he forced himself calm. "And I know very well what an attack is. I would call drawing a wand an issue of challenge."

"I never saw Mr Malfoy draw his wand, yet I couldn't blame him if he had, after your retort."

Harry's eyes flashed, although he only allowed a sardonic chuckle to pass his lips. "_My_ retort? Funny, I could have sworn Malfoy had clearly shot out several statements before I even turned around."

"All I know, Mr Potter," stated Snape, "is that you injured a student, while blocking a professor from reaching you."

"I had nothing to do with that shield, and I didn't even break his blasted wrist," Harry said through a clenched jaw. "I assure you he deserved what he received."

"Clearly nothing Mr Malfoy was alluding to diminished your ever present arrogance," Snape hissed in a cruel whisper.

Harry had been studiously staring straight ahead to avoid getting enraged, but at that he found himself out of his chair and spinning toward the Potions master. Before he could advance, a streak of blue light from Dumbledore's wand caught him around the waist, forcing him back in his chair. Looking to the headmaster, he saw the older man turn a slashing glare on Snape.

"Severus Snape, mind your tongue," Albus reproached. "You speak of control, yet you seem to have no standard for yourself. Did you forget how to think before speaking?"

Abruptly Snape stood, and turning on his heel, strode for the door. Dumbledore closed his eyes in frustration, then flicked his hand to lock the office. When the door refused to open, Snape spun back toward them.

"Was there something else, Headmaster?" he asked in a deadly calm voice.

Albus fixed his blue eyes on black. "Remember yourself, Severus. Now, if you are finished with your report, I will deal with Mr Potter. You may go." The headmaster unlocked the door. "But do not insult another when you have done worse than they."

The door slammed as Snape stormed out, resounding through the office, much to the indignation of the portraits on the wall. As they muttered to one another, Albus released the bounding he had maintained around Harry. Looking the younger wizard over, he would have not noticed anything had just occurred had he not been present. The mask that Albus had seen Harry adopt several times in the short time he'd been back was firmly in place.

"I should apologize for Professor Snape," Albus began, but Harry cut him off with the shake of his head.

"Do not bother, Headmaster. It doesn't matter," replied Harry, his green gaze steady, if blank of emotion. "There is no love lost on either of our parts."

"Yes, well, remember that you both are on the same side, my boy," the headmaster said softly.

"Of course, Headmaster."

Shortly thereafter, Harry walked through Hogwarts' halls, having been dismissed from the headmaster's office. Though the older wizard had told him to better control his outbursts, he'd received no punishment for the altercation with Malfoy. Harry was thankful that Snape hadn't told of his actions in the Potions professor's office, but could only think that the Potions master did not want anyone to know that he'd been thrown around by his student.

Smirking, Harry made his way to the Great Hall. As Dumbledore had told him, it was now dinnertime. Apparently his jaunt to the forest had knocked him out most of the afternoon, and it had taken quite a while for him to wake after the vision was done when the headmaster had brought him in.

As he reached the Hall doors, Harry pulled up short. For a moment, he stared at the wood in front of him. Then with a sigh, he pushed them both open, and strode in, intent on playing up his entrance. _Might as well have a little fun_, he thought snidely as he plastered a smile on his lips.

The reaction he garnered this time was a polar opposite to the last time he'd shown up unexpectedly. Slight yells rang out as the doors startled several people, but as Harry walked calmly up the path between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables, the room fell silent. From the looks he received, he knew that the story of his and Malfoy's fight had gotten around the school.

By sauntering in like he had, the other students had no idea how to react, and Harry further unbalanced them by seeming completely unaffected by the quiet. He noticed Sirius and Remus staring at him, and fought the urge to shake his head. Hissing whispers broke out as he neared the middle of the Gryffindor table, not quite low enough not to be heard.

"_He's dangerous, I tell you. Insane._"

"_Did you hear what Malfoy said about him and You-Know-Who?_"

"_Do you suppose the rumours are true?_"

"_It was wicked what he did to that little git of a Slytherin. Brilliant._"

Harry raised his brow at the last, though he ignored the other murmurs. As he neared the group of seventh year Gryffindors, he realized that Ron was telling the story to the others, but the redhead cut off mid-sentence when he noticed Harry. Quirking a quick smile, Harry turned to the others to gauge their reactions.

Across the table, Seamus was staring everywhere but at him, and Dean didn't seem to know whether it was safe to look at him or not. Neville huffed at their attitudes and scooted over on the bench to make room, nudging Ginny over slightly. Harry nodded his thanks, and the other boy flashed a grin.

As he sat down, he looked at Hermione, who sat to his right. For a moment she merely watched him back, then shaking her head, gave a tremulous smile and finally broke the silence.

"Harry, where have you been?" she asked. "You had us worried."

Harry gave another small smile. "Sorry. I was with the headmaster."

"Did you get in trouble? For the thing with, er, Malfoy?" questioned Neville, his fork half-way to his mouth.

"Not really," Harry replied, glancing down at the plate that appeared before him.

"Good. That arse deserves whatever he gets," Neville stated firmly.

Harry glanced at the other boy with a chuckle as Hermione exclaimed, "Neville!"

"What? You know Malfoy's a git. You've said so yourself," Ginny stated, reaching in front of Neville for a platter of chicken. "Hey there, Harry."

"Hi, Ginny," Harry said, then smirked. "What's this about Hermione using negative language about someone?"

As the brunette flushed and several of those listening around them sniggered, the atmosphere of the Hall loosened. Conversations rose across the tables once more, and although Harry knew most were about him, he ignored it. For the rest of the meal he fielded any questions he needed to, but no one asked about Malfoy's comments. It seemed that beyond a couple people giving their appreciation of his trouncing the Slytherin, none would bring up anything else about it. Harry was glad for that, even if it was apparent that they were saying things behind his back.

Students slowly left the Hall as they finished their dinners, and eventually Harry and those around him rose to do the same. Both Seamus and Dean took off quickly, but Harry's attention was drawn to Hermione when she called him.

"Yes, Hermione?" questioned Harry, waving Neville and Ginny ahead when Hermione stopped. Ron followed them without looking at Harry. "Hermione. Why did you bring your knapsack to dinner?"

Hermione was riffling through her bag. "I brought this to dinner because I was at the library before the meal." She straightened, pulling out a thick scroll. "Here, I made you a copy of my notes from the double period of History of Magic that you missed. Didn't want to forget to give it to you. I had it ready for in case, er, when you got back."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, smiling at her slip. She shrugged and handed him the heavy roll of parchment. "Er, these are the notes from one class?"

"Of course," she replied, closing her bag and shouldering it. She seemed to stagger slightly under the weight. "Now, don't you have detention?"

Just as he was about to nod, Sirius came bounding up to him from the Head Table. "Harry! Where were you? You wouldn't believe all the things I've heard."

Harry flashed Hermione a grimace, to which she grinned. Looking back, he said, "Hey, Sirius. Sorry about that, I was with the headmaster."

"All afternoon? Harry, I was worried sick!" Sirius exclaimed. "I mean, I even checked with Dumbledore, and all he said was not to worry! What the hell happened with Malfoy? I couldn't get a straight answer from anyone."

Harry glanced toward Hermione, who bit her lip. Turning back to his godfather, he was saved from answering when Remus came up and laid a hand on Sirius' arm.

"Hello, Harry," Remus said mildly. "How are you?"

"Fine, Remus, thank you," replied Harry.

"Good, now, Sirius, we need to grade those essays, you know," Remus stated, looking at his partner. When Sirius made to protest, Remus smiled at Harry. "I'm sure you have somewhere to be. Why don't you come by our office tomorrow after class?"

When Harry agreed, Remus pulled Sirius away, leading him out of the hall. Harry quickly followed through the doors, bid Hermione goodbye, and turned to the dungeons. He made it to the Potions classroom in record time, and walked through the open door. Snape stepped out of the shadows with his sneer in place.

"Well, well, Mr Potter, so good of you to make it."

* * *

A/N: Hope you all are enjoying, and thanks for reading! I give a witches oath to update more often!

Thank you to every one who reviews. I truly appreciate knowing what is thought of my story. I have been told by a few anonymous reviewers that my story not only lacks any type of plot, but that my characters are either pathetic or dull. Frankly, if you think so, tell me why (i.e. examples), so I can improve. Otherwise give your smartass remarks to someone else.

Now, those giving either praising reviews or _decent_ critiques, I am entirely grateful. Ignore my comments to others, and know that I write because of you.

Sincerely,  
Zenn


	20. Interventus

Chapter Twenty- Intervention

_"Well, well, Mr Potter, so good of you to make it."_

With that, Snape spun on his heel and stepped through the door near the back of the room. Fairly certain he was meant to follow, Harry walked toward the office, sighing slightly. He had a strong suspicion that this was going to end rather badly. Using his Occlumency to calm himself, which wasn't that difficult a state to reach considering he was fairly exhausted, Harry walked into the Potions office.

As he entered, the door slammed shut behind him. Snape was standing next to his desk, watching Harry move over to the chair before him. Harry halted beside the chair, not bothering to sit, and returned the older man's stare.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Mr Potter?" Snape questioned brusquely.

Harry snorted inwardly. "What do you mean, sir?"

"Don't act coy," ordered Snape curtly. "How do you explain your earlier actions?"

"Which ones? _Sir_?"

Narrowing his eyes, the Potions master took a step closer. "I would watch your flippancy, _Mr Potter_," Snape stated, his every word pronounced sharply. "Dumbledore may feel you are quite the little innocent to be coddled, but I do believe we know better. You will speak, and you will do it now. Am I understood?"

"Explicitly, _Professor_," Harry replied delicately, ire simmering below the surface he allowed to show. "But frankly, I don't care. I did not return to be insulted, assaulted, or, Myrddin forbid, coddled. If you have a problem with me, take it up with the headmaster, because I do believe that he is the one with the authority to discipline me."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that, Potter," drawled the Potions master. "As you are a student in my class, I have every right-"

Harry interrupted with a sneer. "No, you don't,_ Snape_. No professor has the right to harass a student, and I'm sick of it. You've won, all right? From this moment, I am withdrawing from your class, and ceasing to be your direct student. I'm sure we'll have no trouble staying far from one another. Now, can we get on with this detention, so we can start avoiding each other?"

During his speech, Harry's voice had gone from angry to flat with resignation. His expression was composed, if as empty as his voice, and his green eyes were a careful blank. Confused at this new turn, Snape stared for a moment, trying to figure the boy out.

Then, Severus raised an eyebrow. "What is that accent, Potter?"

"What _are_ you talking about, _sir_?" Harry asked, shaking his head as he attempted to adjust to the change of subject.

"There is something different in your voice. Barely distinguishable, yet distinctly not British. What is it?"

Harry blinked. "My voice is _different_? Could it be that fact that I've been _gone_ for _two_ years?"

"I can tell that difference, Potter. You know very well what I am talking about," Snape scathed, exasperated. "What is the undertone? Where you went, where ever that was, did you, _by chance_, speak another language?"

This time Harry narrowed his eyes. "That really has no bearing on this situation. Does it, _sir_? Headmaster Dumbledore knows where I have been, and that is all that is needed." Harry smirked slightly. "There really is no reason to be . . . suspicious, Professor."

"There is every cause to be . . . alarmed by your presence, Mr Potter," Snape answered evenly. "Given your rather odd actions, and by that, I mean odd for even your standards, since your _miraculous_ return. Not to mention your attack of another student, and your _disturbing_ reaction when I merely attempted to search your person. Hiding something, _Mr_ Potter?" Snape smiled cruelly, effecting a gentle tone. "Beyond all of the dreadful things you've been through with the Dark Lord."

Harry's eyes flashed. "You would know about that, I would think. You are a spy, correct? How does it feel to hide your allegiance from one side, and your previous mistakes from another? Funny the harm a little mark can do."

Curling a lip, Snape moved a step closer. "What I do or have done is no concern of yours, boy."

"Than mine is none to you, by the same decree," Harry returned in a simplistic tone.

For a moment the professor merely stood staring at him silently, his expression indiscernible. Though unable to read the man, Harry maintained his own calm and his position, neither moving his gaze from Snape's face nor shying back when the older wizard suddenly stepped forward once again and forced Harry to look up slightly. Wondering just how bad the consequences would be were he to knock the man to his knees, Harry raised a questioning eyebrow, working to hide both his snide thoughts and his annoyance at Snape's advantage of height.

"Mr Potter, you will not like the repercussions should you not tell me what I wish," Snape bit out, the black of his eyes glinting onyx. "Where have you been, what have you been doing, and how do you _explain your actions in this school_?"

"The ninth level of Hell is reserved for spies, Snape," stated Harry easily. "Why don't you go there?"

The Potions master's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You arrogant little bastard," Snape scathed, grabbing Harry by the front of his robes and yanking him forward. "How dare you think you could speak to me like that?"

With a sudden motion, Harry lashed upwards and dislodged the hand holding his clothes. Stepping back, he instantly had his wand pointed toward his professor's chest, a split second before Snape returned the gesture. Squaring off, Harry straightened his robes with his free hand and glared at his opponent.

"Attacking a student, now are you, _Professor_?" Harry questioned, his voice icy.

"If I remember correctly, you are no longer my student, boy," returned Snape through a clenched jaw. "And you would do well to lower you wand, _Potter_, as threatening a teacher is grounds for expulsion. You can be sure I will see it done."

Harry kept his aim. "Then that is really no reason for me to do so, if I'm already to be expelled."

The sound issuing from the professor's throat was nothing less than a growl. "I assure you, you have no wish to toy with me, you foolish boy. _Now, lower your wand_!"

"If I've learned one thing in the past two years, it is to never lower your weapon when a threat is present," Harry responded pointedly.

"Perhaps you are too daft to realize just what you are doing," Snape sneered. "Potter blood too strong? Or did your _close relationship_ with the Dark Lord serve to addle your wits? I couldn't imagine a brat like you could ever successfully deal with the _torment_ that must have been."

The green of Harry's eyes blazed, and the jars littering the room exploded. Syrupy slick liquids meshed with each other as they were set to the air, the glass shards from the containers melting as the various solutions reacted. Despite the splashing and hissing sounds of the concoctions, Snape never turned his attention from the younger wizard. Bringing his wand more to bare, a spell reached his lips just as a burst of red shot from the other's wand.

Before it could strike the professor's chest, a flash of translucent colour leapt from the floor between the two wizards, absorbing the curse, then retreating. Harry swore under his breath, but when Snape opened his mouth to send his own spell, he too sent another, though he knew it was futile.

Again the shield blasted from the floor, took the curses, and just as quickly, retreated. Before the combatants could attempt anything else, the very stone beneath their feet trembled. The movement was enough to dislodge both men's balance, and they fell sharply to the floor, struggling to maintain the grips of their respective wands.

"What in Salazar's name was that!" Snape exclaimed, forcing himself up onto his knees.

"I'd say Hogwarts is a little upset," answered Harry, from his position half-sitting on the ground. He lowered his wand, knowing it wouldn't do any good.

Snape kept his wand aimed towards the younger wizard. "What are you talking about, _Potter_?"

"The school apparently has decided to stop our useless fight," Harry replied, glancing around the office.

"You are mad, boy. A castle can no more have a mind to do anything than a cauldron. Or you, as you've shown."

Rolling his eyes, Harry pushed aside the insult, having regained his composure. "Come now, _professor_. I'm sure you've heard that intense magic can render an inanimate thing animate."

"Foolery. Without a distinct charm, that is impossible," Snape sneered.

"Is that so?" came Hogwarts' voice within Harry's mind. By the startled expression on the Potions master's face, it was also in his. "I'll have you know that it is quite possible, you moronic cad."

Harry snickered as he finally pushed himself up, replacing his wand on the holster at his waist at the same time. Snape stood as well, glaring around him as though to find the source of the offending voice. Brushing his robes smooth, Harry smirked as he watched his professor.

"Now, now, young Harry, you too have got to learn to control yourself better," admonished Hogwarts, causing Harry to glance aside, and Snape to turn a smug look his way. "Honestly, both of you! For all your differences, I can not believe how similar you are."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Snape beat him to it. "Keep your opinions to yourself, whom ever or whatever you are."

"You are stubborn, Severus, aren't you?" Hogwarts stated. "I can see what Albus is always complaining about." Snape looked as if he'd speak, but the school continued, "Now, frankly, I am rather sick of both of your attitudes. Anyone can see you'd make better allies than enemies, and Hell, that's bloody well what you are. Why can't you see that?"

Neither man answered at first, but after a moment, Harry pushed his hair back and spoke. "Look, I can't work with someone who does nothing but humiliate me, merely because of who I am." Harry shook his head, then muttered, "As if I wanted this."

"What, your fame?" Snape asked snidely. "It's apparent you revel in it. Look at your buoyant entrance at dinner. You loved the attention."

"Oh, yes, who wouldn't?" said Harry with a cutting laugh. "It's my dream to be talked about in every way possible by people I barely know!"

"You're just like your father," Snape responded angrily.

Harry chuckled lowly. "Yeah, 'cause I had so much time to be influenced by him."

"Stop it, now." For a building, Hogwarts seemed genuinely close to sighing. "This constant quarrelling has got to stop. Perhaps a lesson would help."

"A lesson? What-" Snape began.

"Quiet," Hogwarts ordered.

Snape seemed about to argue, but a slight tremble of the floor made him close his mouth. He glanced toward Harry, levelling an annoyed look at the younger wizard, then shifted to lean against his desk and crossed his arms. Harry looked around the office, ignoring Snape. He also began to cross his arms, then lowered them to his sides when he realized what he was doing, and placed one hand unconsciously on the dagger he wore under his robes at his waist. Both men unknowingly rose their eyebrows in mirror expressions and waited.

"You remind me of two of my founders, you know," the school began. "I'm sure you can guess which, but perhaps not in the way you'd think."

Suddenly, the air of the office shifted. As Harry and Snape watched, the slimy mess on the floor disappeared, the shelves rearranged and gained several large books, and the furniture changed into elaborate old-fashioned pieces, brand new and polished. The walls themselves became clean and bright, the dull stone shifting to proud grey, nearly tinged silver.

"What in the world?" Harry murmured, and Snape's expression showed he was similarly surprised.

"It is something you have experience in, Harry, though not as far back," Hogwarts told them. "This is a memory, mine, of when I was new and before times blackened some of my image. Now, watch."

Hogwarts fell silent, and abruptly the door of the office, the oak as new as the stone around it, flung open, rebounding against the wall and swinging shut behind a man striding in. The individual was fairly young, perhaps mid-twenties, with stylized black hair, tanned skin, and dark eyes that pierced through the other wizards as he scanned the room. His expression was taut, but it was obvious that he didn't see either Harry or Snape as he walked nearly through the former and made his way to the desk.

Reaching it, he slammed a palm on the dark wood top, and a hissed breath pushed out through a clenched jaw. His robes, which looked as though they could double for a duelling uniform, flared as he pushed away from the desk slightly. Looking up, his face shone in profile in the dim light of the room. When Snape's breath hitched slightly, Harry turned to see the professor staring at the man in the most amazement he'd ever shown.

Before Harry could question it, the door again crashed open, this time allowing a slightly taller man to stalk in. The first's expression grew hostile and he deliberately turned his back as the other man walked toward him. Glaring murderously, the second curled his lip in a sneer.

Past the expression, the latter was quite classically handsome, with blond hair and bright blue eyes, quite the opposite of the other man's darker visage. This second one was also clearly older, by a good ten years, and seemed to have established himself quite well, given the excessively detailed robes and hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. He carried himself with an air that he knew precisely what he was capable of and was entirely aware of his own power. The glint of strength in his eye was hardened now, as he stared at the other's back.

"You are acting as a child," the second scathed in a baritone lowered to a lethal volume. "And a fool."

"Am I now, Godric?" questioned the first silkily as he turned on his heel to glare at the other wizard. "I'm sure you'll tell me of it."

Harry fought to keep his surprise concealed as he looked at Godric Gryffindor. Glancing at Snape, then at the first wizard, he suddenly realized the identity of that man as well. Watching as Salazar Slytherin smiled nastily at his companion, Harry looked to see Godric's reply.

"Arrogant fool," Godric growled as he walked closer, stopping little more than an arm's length away. "Do you enjoy all the attention you receive? Is that the reason you continually attempt to enforce your opinion on all others? _Of course_, every person is to live by Salazar Slytherin's command. Can _not_ be any other way."

"I am _attempting_ to maintain the safety of this school!" exclaimed Salazar, his hand clenching at the waist of his robes as though over his wand. "Do you wish it to fall before it has seen three years!"

"All you are doing is gathering your followers! You have your students as your admirers already." Godric waved his hand in an irritated gesture. "Is their fawning not sufficient?"

"I do not wish for followers," Salazar answered angrily, his words clipped. "Would you cease your disparaging comments at once!"

Godric raised an eyebrow, his expression gaining an ugly pomposity. "Or you will do what, may I ask? The same as to that disarmed wizard you impaled on your blade? Was one murder not enough?"

"I did what was needed, what was merciful," Salazar responded sharply. "That man was dead, by that poison. It was not murder!"

Standing near the wall, a small distance from Snape, Harry flinched. To his side, the Potions master turned his dark gaze to him, tilting his head as though in inquiry. Harry regained himself, and pointedly resumed his observation of the two founders. For a moment, Snape's stare remained on him, then he too turned back.

"Really, boy?" asked Godric sarcastically. "It is a wonder that you think those without Magic are cruel. I have seen Wizards be far worse."

"As have I!" Salazar stated. "And we should handle them, not take on worse risk by allowing what you, Helga, and Rowena have!"

Godric shook his head in disgust. "Because a few harmed you once, you would turn all without pure blood away!"

"Harmed me!" Salazar said, his eyes flashing. "They not only killed my parents, but they would have downed others as well, had they not been killed."

"That is no excuse!" Godric yelled. "You are no better than they! A fool, and a contemptuous bastard!"

Salazar whipped out his wand, brandishing it angrily at his opponent. Just as quickly, Godric had his aimed as well. Before either could give voice to a spell, the door burst open and their wands flew from their hands into the palm of a tall, striking woman. Rowena Ravenclaw stepped into the office, followed closely by Helga Hufflepuff, both of their expressions severe.

Before they could hear what the women would say, the office shimmered slightly around Harry and Snape. The stone walls dulled, the furniture changed to the present settings, and the mess of potions and whatever else reappeared, congealed on the floor.

As the two wizards glanced at one another, Hogwarts made itself known. "Well, what did you think? They were both as idiotic as you."

"We are not them," Harry said, glaring at the wall of the office, though he felt slightly absurd.

"Your arguments are not theirs, but your actions are," the school responded. "Allies who can not even speak to one another without fighting. What is it worth? You would risk your lives for the other, but can't hold a conversation? Is that anything other than foolishness? Think about it."

The office, and the voice in their heads, fell silent. Harry glanced around the office, unwilling to be the first to speak. When Snape said nothing, Harry turned to face him. Their gazes locked, green to black, though they found they could read nothing of the other.

"Your detention is over. Go," Snape commanded, turning away to walk to his desk.

"Sir?" Harry questioned, though he wasn't quite sure what he was asking.

Snape looked back at him, his eyes narrowed. "You will be in class on time, Potter, or you will get another detention. Do you understand me?"

Harry nodded, somehow seeing that as the only olive branch the other could bear giving. For a moment, he considered the Potions master, then moved to walk out of the room. Halting by the door, he pulled his wand, swung it in an arch before Snape could react, and muttered a quick incantation.

As he opened the door, he heard the liquids upon the floor separate and fly back onto the shelves, the jars reappearing around them. Walking out without a backward glance, Harry missed Snape's stunned expression staring after him.

Swiftly, Harry left the dungeons, his mind replaying the memory Hogwarts had shown them. He realized, much to his shock, that Hogwarts was right about them. They were too similar to Godric and Salazar, just the opposite ones than Harry would have thought. He found himself wondering just how comparable he was to Salazar Slytherin, and what that could mean.

He barely noticed the halls he walked through, though he kept his senses as alert for danger as they always were. Making it in good time to the Gryffindor Common room, he gave the Lady the password and slipped in. He saw Hermione and Ron in a corner, bent over their books, as were several other students. As Harry passed, various ones looked up, then down as though to not be seen staring. Neville waved from the couch, next to Seamus, who predictably didn't look at him.

Going up to his dormitory, Harry quickly changed his clothes, then sat upon his bed, his mind racing even as the exhaustion of the day hit him. Getting in, he pulled the curtains shut and laid down, staring up at the canopy. He knew it was still fairly early, but didn't really care.

Harry forcefully shut his thoughts away as they turned to the other realm. He knew better than to get into thinking that he'd rather be there. As he focussed on the black of his mind, he couldn't help wondering why everything seemed easier there, even as the danger in that world was so much more in view.

* * *

A/N: Tell me what you think. I truly appreciate feedback.

Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers.

Plot note- Things are developing, and while the Founders will play a slight role, they won't be prominent. They are there as a way for Hogwarts to teach things at the moment. Also, Severus is going to show what he's capable of eventually. Don't worry, I wouldn't write him as a pushover. Ever. As to his attitude, well, you'll see.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
Zenn


	21. Raptus

Chapter Twenty One- Abduction

_Harry couldn't help wondering why everything seemed easier there, even as the danger in that world was so much more in view._

A couple of weeks later found Harry in the odd position of both despising and enjoying his life. Between the constant stares and negative attitudes of his classmates that had yet to abate, and the damned annoyance of his connection with Voldemort, Harry sometimes wished nothing more than to escape. His training area in the Forest had become his refuge at those moments. It hadn't happened more than twice, but after the Dark Lord pulled Harry into his mind again, he'd destroyed the clearing near as bad as after his altercation with Malfoy and Snape.

For the Potions master's part, he'd taken to ignoring Harry's presence in class. He never asked questions of him, which was easier for Harry, as he didn't have to conceal what he knew. But at moments when Harry was brewing, (pretending mild incompetence), he'd sense the professor scrutinizing him, and he knew that Snape would demand answers eventually.

As tired as he was of some of the results of his return, the situation was made better by others. He had no trouble in class, just the opposite rather, and found them quite useful as a time for concentrating within his mind on improving his mental abilities. Harry was determined to learn all he could of the Mental Arts, knowing that Riddle would press every advantage. Thus far, he'd managed to pretend to focus on the classwork, and his teachers were none the wiser.

"Harry. Harry. Mr Potter!"

Harry belatedly glanced up. "Yes, sir?"

"I know that the textbook is intriguing," Lupin stated, his brow raised, "but if you would join the discussion?"

Glancing down, Harry saw his open book before him, then he smiled sheepishly at Remus. "Sorry, Professor."

"Yes, well," Remus said, shaking his head, though his eyes shined with the faintest hint of amusement. "Please stay with us, or I'll be forced to take points."

Harry nodded, catching his godfather's eye behind Lupin. Sirius mouthed the word 'tyrant', gesturing toward Remus, and Harry glanced back down to hide a smirk.

Remus turned around to face his partner, who'd cleared his own expression. "Professor Black, is something wrong?"

"No, of course not," Sirius assured him. "Where were you? Um, nauseous petals?"

The class snickered, as Remus blinked, then scowled. "Poisoned nettles."

"Ah, yes." Sirius swung to face the class. "What do we know about these?"

Hermione was the first to raise her hand, to no one's surprise. Remus smiled, but glanced around the class in an effort to find someone else. Deciding to appease him, Harry raised his hand, inwardly smirking at the professor's slightly startled expression. Collecting himself and smiling wider, Remus gestured for him to speak. Hermione looked disappointed.

"Nettles are a rare breed of plant found in wetlands. The stem contains a very strong poison, but if diluted, it can be used as a tranquillizer."

"Excellent, five points to Gryffindor," Sirius stated.

Remus nodded. "Yes, now, why is it important to know about these types of things in Defence?"

A Ravenclaw Harry barely knew raised his hand. "Because we might need it in a fight?"

"Exactly," Remus confirmed. "All right, class is just about over, for next week, I want an essay on five different plants that can be found in the wild and used as a defence. Include ways to distinguish them quickly and in different conditions. Dismissed."

Picking up his bag, Harry placed his book inside and flung it over his shoulder. Just as he was about to wave goodbye to Sirius and Remus, his godfather caught his eye and called him over. As the classroom emptied, Harry made his way to them, avoiding the chairs that the students forgot to push in.

"Hello, Professors," Harry said with a grin as he stopped by the front desk.

"Hello, Harry." Remus watched the last student leave the room, then turned to face him with a attentive look. "Is everything all right?"

Glancing over at Sirius, Harry saw that his godfather wore a concerned expression to match Remus'. "Yeah, everything's fine. Why?"

"I've noticed that you've been a little, well, distracted in class," Remus admitted, looking at him closely. "I can sense when someone's not entirely there. One of the perks of lycanthropy."

Harry winced slightly. "Sorry, Remus, Sirius, I've just been trying to get back into everything, you know."

"Yeah, of course," Sirius said quickly. "But if something's wrong, you'll tell me, or Remus, right?"

"Don't worry," Harry answered, wearing a smile. "I'd tell you."

Sirius grinned. "Great."

"Well, we'll let you go, Harry," Remus said. "You probably have some studying to do."

"Thanks to you two," responded Harry with mock annoyance.

"It's what we're here for," Sirius announced, clapping Harry on the shoulder. "Well, go, get to it!"

Waving farewell, Harry walked out of the room, still smiling. As he stepped into the hall, he caught sight of Hermione leaning against the wall next to the door. Seeing him, she grinned and pushed away from the stones.

"Hey, Harry," she greeted, shrugging her school-bag to a less painful place on her shoulder.

"Hello, Hermione," Harry said, eyeing the bag that was easily twice the size of his. "What's going on?"

"I waited to see if you wanted to come study in the library," she answered.

Harry nodded with a smile, then grabbed the bag off her shoulder and swung it on his, gesturing for her to walk beside him. "How did you shrug off Ron, again?"

"I told him I wanted to study," Hermione stated, and Harry smirked. "Well, he also had Quidditch practice."

"He's still not exactly happy with me," Harry said. "You might want to be careful."

Hermione scowled. "I'm dating him, he doesn't own me. If he doesn't like my being with a friend, too bad. Besides, he'll straighten up eventually. He can't stay upset with you forever."

Harry glanced at her, then at the view through the windows they passed. The sun made him narrow his eyes. "Maybe, maybe not. If he gets over it, it'll have to be his choice."

"Ron's angry that you won't, uh, can't, tell us anything more about where you went," Hermione explained. "We thought you were dead for two years, Harry. It was a bad time. He'll realize that at least you're back, and come around."

Nodding, Harry shifted the bags on his shoulder and continued alongside Hermione, matching her pace. Reaching the library, they went inside and claimed a table in a quiet area away from Madam Pince's desk. As they pulled the books from their bags, Harry shook his head and grinned at the sheer amount of extra volumes Hermione had.

"Do you really need all of those?" he asked, opening his NEWT Defence book.

"Of course," Hermione stated adamantly.

Smiling, Harry let it go, and settled in to read over the material. He knew all of it, but forced himself to concentrate anyway. He would need to know the usual wording used in the book when he wrote his essay, at any rate. Several minutes passed as the two Gryffindors read in silence.

Suddenly, Hermione noisily flipped back a page in her book. Looking up, Harry noticed her furrowed brow and leaned over slightly to see what had her confused. The page was written in absurdly small print, but Harry made out enough to recognize that it was about runes.

"Something wrong?" Harry asked quietly.

Startled, Hermione glanced up at him. "Hm? Oh, no, not really." She frowned. "I'm just not sure of this passage."

"What is it?" Harry questioned. At her doubtful look, he chuckled. "Ancient Runes, right? Try me, I've learned a bit about them."

"All right," Hermione agreed, though she still didn't seem to think he could help. "It says here that Runes can be used offensively, but it doesn't say how. I haven't heard of that before, and it doesn't say anything more about it. I know they're used for defence, wards and all of that, but not offense."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, but it takes a while and isn't good to use in a battle or anything."

Hermione blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he said, "they can be used to force people to do what you wish. If you wanted someone to do something, you apply the necessary rune or runes onto them, and it bonds with their magic, making them do what is needed."

"Like mind control or something?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed. "I thought you needed a curse for that."

"Mind control, yes, you do," Harry told her. "Runes bond with a person's magical core, rendering it unable to do anything but what they force it to do."

Hermione grabbed a quill and wrote furiously on her parchment. "How do you 'apply' runes on to someone?"

"Render it physically, like a tattoo or brand, upon the victim's skin," Harry said. "Then you force it to seek out the person's magic. It won't work if the magic level is too low, like a Muggle, and it takes quite a while to make it work. Usually, it takes the person it's applied on to be willing. That's why it's not used very much. And also why it's not illegal."

"Amazing," Hermione murmured, finishing her scribbling. "You learned about that? I wonder if there's anything here in the library about it. Be right back, I need to ask Madam Pince."

Hermione was gone before Harry could answer.

A while later, with Hermione still conspicuously absent, Harry was startled by the arrival of an owl that swooped and landed on his table. Worried about the librarian's reaction, he scanned the area around him. When an angry Pince failed to appear, Harry turned back to the owl. It reached out its leg, and Harry removed the letter quickly, as it hooted in impatience. As soon as he had the parchment free, the bird sped away.

"What in the world?" Hermione asked, just as she returned and saw the owl flying out the open window down the aisle. "That's odd. Who's sending you something at this time of day?"

Harry glanced up and shrugged. Hermione sat down, dropping several old texts upon the table, sending a flood of dust blasting off of them and over the two students. Coughing, Harry pushed back from the table.

Waving her wand, Hermione dispelled the dust swiftly. "S-sorry," she choked, then she cleared her throat and smiled apologetically.

"Where did you find those? Myrddin," Harry exclaimed, leaning forward and studying the dull spines of the books.

"Bottom shelves in the far corner of the library," Hermione said, as she pushed her hair away from her face and put away her wand. "Anyway, what about your letter?"

"Oh yeah," Harry murmured, unrolling and reading it quickly as Hermione began sorting her books. "Strange."

"What?" asked Hermione, stopping her arranging.

Harry read aloud, "'Potter. Make your way to the Staff Lounge immediately.' Then there are directions and it's signed by Snape."

"Snape? Why would he send for you now?"

"He's in charge for the day," Harry answered in a distracted tone, stuffing his text back in his bag. "Both Dumbledore and McGonagall were called to the Ministry."

Hermione blinked, then frowned. "How do you know that?"

Harry glanced up at her. "Oh, I overheard Sirius mention it." Or, rather, heard in that Dumbledore had told him, but Harry wasn't about to say that. "Well, I better go before Snape gets any more upset than usual. See you later."

She waved briefly, already turning back to her books. Harry smiled, walking out of the library and placing the missive in a pocket, his mind working to figure out what he was wanted for. He couldn't imagine for what reason he was made to go to the faculty's lounge. Shaking his head, he increased his pace.

Nearing the Lounge's ajar door at the end of a long corridor, he distinguished voices within and slowed to listen. When he recognized the Minister of Magic's dry speech along with Snape's, Harry faltered in his step for a moment. He suddenly had a bad feeling about the situation, though besides his old personal dislike of Cornelius Fudge, he wasn't sure why that was.

"Minister, if I may ask," Snape's smooth tones were lowered to a displeased level, undermining the humble words. "Why could we not have conducted this little _meeting_ in the Headmaster's office?"

"Why, _Professor_ Snape, this is much more comfortable," Fudge answered, his voice as stony as the other wizard's. "No portraits blathering, and all of that. Don't you agree?"

"Of course, _Minister Fudge_."

Harry knocked lightly, then pushed the door open as he stepped in. The Minister was seated opposite a small table from Snape, and Harry could see their irritation in their tense postures. It was almost humorous, though Harry wisely kept a smirk off his face.

"Ah, Harry, how good to see you again!" Fudge exclaimed, rising and coming around the table. Something about the tone set Harry on edge. "So good of you to make it."

"Thank you, Minister," Harry said calmly, his expression betraying none of his discontent.

Snape came near to Harry, his hard gaze on the Minister. "Mr Potter, the Minister has _kindly_ asked to speak with you. Apparently, it was too pressing to wait until the headmaster could return." He turned his black eyes to Harry. "Conduct yourself accordingly."

Harry nodded. "Of course, Professor. What was it you wished, Minister?"

"Only a word, Harry," Fudge declared with a pompous wave of the hand. "Only a word."

Harry gave a smile that he forced to look polite. "Certainly."

"Excellent." Fudge turned toward Snape with a darker look. "It if would be all right with the _good_ professor, I would prefer to speak to Harry in private."

"I am afraid that it is against the rules for students to meet with non-faculty without a member of said staff in attendance," Snape informed the Minister curtly. "As I was left in charge of the school, I am bound to enforce that stipulation."

"Oh, come now, Professor," Fudge replied haughtily. "There is no need of that with me. As the Minister of Magic, I am well in my right to request this. As the headmaster is not here to say otherwise, I'm afraid my authority is quite above yours. If you would?" With a gesture, Fudge indicated the door.

With a last glance towards Harry, Snape nodded brusquely and turned on his heel, striding swiftly from the room. His entire demeanor, down to the sharp flare of his robes, demonstrated his ire at being overridden. Harry sensed that Snape also thought the whole thing as suspicious as he did.

Surreptitiously, Harry fingered the wand at his waist, even as he seemed to be straightening the lining of his uniform. For a moment, he watched the Minister walk over and check the door. Seemingly satisfied, Fudge turned back toward him and moved closer. On guard now, Harry kept his expression blank as he drew his wand slightly, keeping it under his robes.

"Well, Mr Potter, it has been hard to gain an audience with you," Fudge stated, stopping an arm's length away. "For some reason, Dumbledore has been most uncooperative in that issue. Do you know why that could be?"

As this was the first he'd heard of it, Harry was honest when he said, "No, I don't, Minister." He could guess the reason, but he knew that Fudge wasn't really looking for an answer. "What did you need, sir?"

Instead of answering, Fudge narrowed his eyes and with a surprisingly quick movement, lashed out and grabbed the collar of Harry's robe. Harry yanked out his wand, a curse at his lips, when suddenly he felt something wind around his neck and squeeze.

The attack was too swift for Harry to cast his spell, so he responded physically, latching on to and twisting Fudge's arms away. Pushing the older man back, Harry kicked out, his foot hitting Fudge's stomach. The Minister jerked back with a forced exhale of breath and clutched his abdomen, wheezing.

The distance from Fudge didn't stop the thing strangling him, and Harry fell to his knees as blackness crept into his vision. Reaching to his neck, he felt nothing restricting his breathing, but the choking continued. The lack of air made thinking difficult, but Harry focussed inwardly, and using a burst of power, shot it at the unseen force.

As it hit, Harry only had a moment to realize it was the wrong thing to do, as instead of removing the thing hurting him, his own power was sent around it and lashed back into him. Unable to yell at the pain, Harry finally slipped into darkness and onto the floor.

With an arrogant smile, the Minister of Magic grasped one of the unconscious Harry's arms, reached into his own robe, and pulled out a Muggle pencil. With a word, he and his captive were sent out of Hogwarts, Harry's wand slipping from his fingers and clattering to the ground of the Faculty Lounge in their wake.


	22. Curare

A/N: Sorry to all who have been waiting for me. Real Life has been hell lately, things contriving to make me unable to write. Don't worry, my stories will be finished. And updated regularly, now.

* * *

Chapter Twenty Two- Ministering

_With a word, Fudge and his captive were sent out of Hogwarts, Harry's wand slipping from his fingers and clattering to the ground of the Faculty Lounge in their wake._

The sunlight streaming through the hallway windows of the castle did nothing to improve the Potions master's mood as he strode through it, making his way to the headmaster's office. His perpetual scowl was deepened to a degree that indicated to the students that they had best stay out of his way. That was one of the reasons Severus had mastered the look.

At the moment, though, he wasn't concerned with frightening the idiotic pupils, but with getting word to Dumbledore about the one he personally thought of as the worst of them. He may not have been able to force the Minister to allow him to remain in the Lounge, but Severus knew he had to do something about the situation. Fudge was an imbecile; unfortunately though, he was a powerful one, and therefore dangerous. Not that Snape was troubled about Potter really, but Dumbledore did seem to have a rather annoying affinity for the brat and wouldn't be particularly happy if harm came to him. And Severus really didn't want to deal with that on his watch.

"Severus?"

Jerking to a sudden stop, Snape had his wand out and pointed before he realized that the voice came from within his mind. Sneering, he thrust his wand back inside his robes and started walking again.

"What do you want now?" snarled Severus, keeping his voice low so no one heard him talking to himself.

"Oh, not much," Hogwarts' voice replied with a disgusted air. "Just that, if you are going to contact Albus, you might want to speed up a bit."

Snape raised his eyebrow. "Why would I do that?"

"Because that overstuffed dolt of a Minister has just attacked and kidnapped Harry," stated the school casually.

"_What_?" Severus exclaimed, halting mid-step.

"This isn't really the time to stop- you need to get Albus," Hogwarts instructed. "And lower your voice, you're scaring the children."

Snape scanned the hallway in front of him quickly, and sure enough, several first-years were standing near a window, looking at him with nervous expressions. With a snarl, Severus sent them scampering and he began walking faster towards the headmaster's office.

"What happened?" he demanded angrily.

"Fudge knocked him out and portkeyed the both of them away."

"Why didn't you stop that?" asked Severus in a sharp voice.

"Only the headmaster or deputy headmistress can bypass my Anti-portkey wards in any other part of the castle, but the Lounge can be accessed by anyone, you know that," Hogwarts explained curtly. "I knew I should have had Albus put in those safeguards in there too, but only the staff was to know of that concession."

"And the Aurors who assisted Dumbledore in changing the wards," Snape stated. "And of course, the Minister of Magic."

As Severus reached the stone guardian of the headmaster's office, he found it already opening for him, without him having to say the current ridiculous password. For all of its blasé attitude, it seemed Hogwarts wanted him to hurry.

Within moments, he'd made it into the office and had tossed a handful of Floo powder into the hearth. Kneeling down and leaning into the fire, he looked forward to see the Ministry's interior. With a biting tone, he forced the wizard watching the Floo connection on that side to go get Dumbledore, promising severe consequences if it took too long.

By the time the man returned with the headmaster in tow, Snape had managed to think of several different punishments. Pushing the thoughts aside, at least until his next class of Gryffindors, he told Dumbledore that he had to speak to him, and pulled back out of the fire.

"Severus, what is wrong?" questioned Albus as soon as he stepped from the fireplace.

"Headmaster," Snape began, "Minister Fudge arrived shortly after mid-day and demanded an audience with Harry Potter. When the boy came, Fudge forced me to leave the room, and as I was coming to contact you, he reportedly abducted Potter."

"Not reportedly, you boor," Hogwarts immediately interjected. Then to Dumbledore, though Snape heard as well, it said, "It was about ten minutes ago, Albus. A portkey out of the Faculty Lounge."

The twinkle of the headmaster's eyes hardened as his expression went dark. "Severus, call Minerva back, then meet me in the Lounge."

The steel voice sent chills down Snape's spine, but it made him smirk. His own temper may have been legendary, but Albus', though hard to bring on, was quite a bit worse. Fudge had just made a very grave mistake.

It wasn't long before Snape and McGonagall were making their way to the Lounge, the latter having been apprised of the situation. Walking into the open door, Severus was disgruntled to see Black and Lupin demanding that Albus explain what had happened. The Potions master was pleased, though, to note the distressed expressions the mutts wore.

"Fudge has taken Harry," Dumbledore calmly stated, his eyes glinting. "I've only been able to catch a faint trace of the portkey trail, but it is enough to go on. Minerva, remain here and watch after the school. Sirius, Remus, Severus, we're going to find the Minister."

* * *

"_It's too late, Nyx," a pained voice spoke in Harry's ear. "There's nothing we can do."_

_Harry tensed and pushed away the pale hand that reached for his shoulder. "I'm not leaving it like this, Lokae, I refuse."_

"_What do you suggest we do?" questioned Lokae, his voice now holding the faintest hint of sarcasm._

_The silence stretched for a moment before Harry could even think to answer. The sunbelt's light streamed in through the Academy's open window, seeming too cheerful for the situation. Harry leaned heavily against the dais before him, blinking back burning tears as he gazed down at two of his closest friends and most trusted allies. Their bodies lay next to one another, Sa'na's golden skin, even in death, a contrast to Reina's more silvery pallor._

_Running his fingers gently over the Veela's forehead, Harry brushed back Reina's hair, then dropped his hand to the edge of the platform. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sa'na's face- the blackened wounds marred the distinguished Elfish features nearly beyond recognition._

_Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed away from the dais and turned to face Lokae, his expression set. The determined look in his eyes was all the Vampyr needed to know what he had planned. Startled, Lokae shook his head, his dark hair falling forward from its band. He didn't pay it any mind._

"_Nyx, you can't-"_

"_I have to," Harry answered, moving to walk past the taller male. Lokae grabbed his arm in a swift movement. "Lokadion, let go of me."_

"_No, Ataernyx," snapped Lokae, spinning Harry to face him directly. "Are you really that idiotic, or have you just lost the last of your wits! It could kill us all!"_

"_Or it could save us," Harry growled. "All of us! There is no other chance, Lokae, can't you see that? We, too, will die."_

_Lokae's blackish eyes flashed crimson. "More than just us may die if you do this. I can't let you take that risk."_

"_It's not your choice." Harry wrenched his arm free. "In the end, it might not matter any step I take. But I have to try to set this right. I can't let you stop me; I will save them. And you."_

_Harry grabbed the front of Lokae's vest in his left hand, yanking the Vampyr close. Leaning up, Harry pressed his lips firmly against the other's, quieting any words. His right hand trembled as he quickly reached behind him and summoned a weapon. As the stake slapped into his palm, Harry brought it forward, and pulling away from the kiss, stabbed it cleanly into Lokae's heart._

_For a moment, Harry stared into his comrade's eyes, his hand still clenched around the stake. As realization and then betrayal entered Lokadion's gaze, Harry jerked away, his back hitting the dais behind him. In the second it took for the weapon to do its job, Harry shuddered in absolute horror._

_No blood came from the wound, as Lokae's heart didn't beat, but before he had time to reach and grasp the stake, his skin began disintegrating. From the point of entry outwards, the Vampyr's body transformed to dust before Harry. The last sight of Lokae's face showed no physical pain, but the look made Harry feel as though he too was dying._

_With a burst of dust and a blast of wind, Lokae was destroyed, leaving Harry standing alone in a veritable morgue. . . ._

With a gasp, Harry jerked awake, sitting up abruptly. The movement caused an explosion of pain in his head, and he barely swallowed a moan as he bent over his knees. The dreamed memory slowly faded from his mind as he choked in a breath. Suddenly a blast of bitter wind rushed over him, and forcing his head up, Harry saw a black spectre hovering over him in the surrounding darkness.

Harry struggled backward, but his back hit a rough wall, pulling him up short. Somewhat haphazardly, he tried summoning first his wand, then any other weapon, but nothing came. The figure above him moved closer, and the temperature dropped low enough to cast his ragged breath into vapour. Half-formed visions lanced across his mind, thoughts and memories of pain intermingling, ghostly tendrils striking him. It took a woman's voice ringing in his ears, calling his name, to make his unwitting brain realize what was happening.

The Dementor came ever closer, its scabbed hand reaching toward him. Harry forced himself to concentrate, to ignore the intense feeling of being overwhelmed, and to raise the shields in his mind. It took an effort beyond which he thought himself capable, but finally the Dementor's effect slowly receded.

Seemingly angry at the lack of sustenance it was now getting, the Dementor swooped closer, attempting to grab him. Harry ducked aside and half-crawled in order to get away. Before going very far, he was once more stopped by a solid wall. Now, Harry could see dimly that it was stone, and following the line of it, he went forward, further from the Dementor.

The creature came after him, so Harry struck out against it, making it glide back. Harry continued along the wall several more feet before he had to stop, this time because of a row of bars. It took a moment for him to realize that he was in some kind of cell, but as the Dementor reared close again, his attention was distracted.

Backing as far as possible against the wall, he waited for the creature to near him. As it did, Harry pushed up from the floor as quickly as possible, catching a fold of its tattered robe in his fist. Swallowing heavily at the stench of its breath, Harry flinched as the back of his hand came into contact with its scabbed flesh. Pivoting on his heel, he pulled the Dementor around and slammed the vile form into the bars with a sickening squashing noise.

Harry jerked away, disgusted, even as he stayed on guard. The stone floor beneath him was uneven, and he stumbled back, barely remaining standing. His vision blurred for a moment, then cleared, and Harry forced himself to get a grip. Reaching the side wall, he pressed a hand to it for added balance and wearily watched the Dementor before him.

For a second, it seemed to be stuck against the bars of the cell, but suddenly it wrenched away and turned its hooded face toward Harry. As it stared at him, it seemed to shake, then shimmer, and Harry realized that a mist was forming around it. From the fog, a figure seemed to be taking shape, swirling in the air. It became more substantial with every turn, becoming dark and solid.

The twisting slowed, and as it did, Harry saw clearly the rotted unclothed flesh of a new Dementor. Frozen in place, he watched as a flash of brown lashed over the creature, leaving behind the standard ragged robe. Briefly he wondered how the first had bred so fast, but he didn't dwell on it. The mist in the cell dissolved as both Dementors shifted in midair, then slowly moved forward.

"Oh, Myrddin," Harry muttered, leaning hard on the wall as the strength of the attack on his mind doubled.

While it wouldn't have been much of a problem normally, Harry found his breath speeding up with the effort of holding his mental barriers. He started feeling vaguely enraged at how easily he'd been overtaken, first by Fudge, and now this. Using that, and the rush of adrenaline that came with it, Harry focussed within himself, seeking his magic.

With a concentrated build up of power, Harry calmly stated, "_Frigidum_!"

Magic shot from Harry's body, smothering the Dementors immediately. There was a wail that rose the hair on Harry's arms, then a crack. As the spell took complete effect, both creatures abruptly imploded, their bodies crushing in until nothing was left.

Fighting a sudden feeling of nausea, Harry sat heavily on the ground. He wasn't quite sure whether it was the exertion from such deliberately controlled wandless magic or the sight of the dying Dementors that had made him ill. Closing his eyes, he waited for his stomach to settle.

Outside his cell, Harry heard a door slam open, and he stood quickly. A flash of light greeted him, and he had to blink rapidly as the small chamber was flooded with it. Shaking his head, he finally succeeded on discerning the silhouette that walked in front of the bars.

"Well, well, Mr Potter, quite a show," Minister Fudge said in a tone of mock admiration. "Though that was one of my rather dwindling stock of Dementors. And the Rapid-Breed worked on it, as well. I am going to have to take compensation from your vault, I'm afraid. That potion is quite expensive; I'm sure you understand."

"What's going on, Fudge?" Harry questioned sharply. "Why am I in prison? Headmaster Dumbledore won't let you get away with this."

Fudge tutted. "Oh, now, now, Harry, no reason to get hostile. You aren't in _gaol_, merely a holding cell, of course. We only need you to answer a couple questions, that's all. And Dumbledore knows that, too."

"Right," Harry replied, sarcasm laced in the one word. "I'm sure you got his permission to kidnap me from school."

"Harry!" Fudge exclaimed, his expression shocked. "How could you say such a thing? Kidnap, indeed. Having been denied access to you, I had to find, er, more delicate channels."

Harry was cut off from answering when the same door outside opened. Two large men walked in, their faces set in unpleasant expressions. By their uniforms, Harry assumed they were Aurors. Glancing toward the new arrivals, Fudge smiled grimly, then turned back to Harry.

Tapping his finger against one of the bars, Fudge said, "Now, Harry, just a couple things. Where have you been?"

"I was at Hogwarts, as you well know," Harry responded.

"Funny, very funny," Fudge chuckled, narrowing his eyes. "And before that? For the time you've been . . . missing?"

Harry reached up and pushed his hair away from his face. "I'm sure the headmaster has explained."

Fudge seemed to bristle at that. "Oh yes. Well, then. What is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named planning?" he snapped. "Is he going to come back to the Ministry?"

"How would I know that?" replied Harry in the same curt tone.

"What about Dumbledore!" Fudge demanded.

"I don't know what you're talking about, _Minister_."

"Don't play fool with me, boy!" Fudge gripped the bars of the cell, his face turning livid. "Dumbledore threatens me with displacement, but I am the Minister! I will find out what is happening. If I have to go through you, so be it."

With that, Fudge whipped around and jerked his head toward the Aurors still standing near the door. They stepped forward as one, then the one closest to Harry's cell lifted his wand and the barred door swung open. Before Harry could react, manacles lashed from the floor and ceiling, catching his arms.

Memories hit him, only some being ones the Dementors had pulled to the forefront. His heart skipped a beat, then Harry lashed out wildly with his magic at the restraining cuffs. Instead of affecting them, it flew back into him, causing his body to shake.

"None of that, boy," Fudge said. "Those work just like that nice restraining spell I used to get you here. I'm especially glad we have it, after seeing you handle those Dementors."

Harry forced himself to stop trembling and calm down. _Emotions are going to be the death of me_, he thought.

Fudge smiled in what was supposed to be a nice way. "Now, is there anything you want to say?"

"Yes," Harry stated angrily. "Go to hell."

Raising his chin, Fudge glared at him, then gestured to the Aurors. They stepped into the cell, and Harry noticed that neither had their wand out any longer. As they stepped up to him, he also saw the smirks that they wore.

Harry braced himself as the first punch hit, pain lancing through him. Others quickly followed, as Fudge's two men got into their job. Harry refused to make a sound, though the crack from a couple of broken ribs betrayed him.

For several minutes it continued, until his assailants seemed to tire. Fudge finally called them off, then stepped into the cell himself.

"Anything, now?" Fudge asked, tipping Harry's bloodied face toward him with a glove covered hand.

"Just what I said before," Harry ground out, concentrating more on standing on his own feet and not dangling from the manacles, than on Fudge.

The Minister stepped back with a nod. The two Aurors moved forward and began again. Harry took every shot, but struggled to focus past it. He looked down at the chains on his ankles, and saw the hinge on them before a streak of pain blackened his sight for a moment.

Biting his lip to stop even a gasp, he felt one of the men hit his shoulder. The joint nearly jumped out of place, and hot agony slid through him. Riding the wave, which allowed him to ignore that they were now drawing blood even beneath his robes, Harry shot out another burst of power.

Though nowhere near as strong as the last, this one struck the manacle hinges and blasted them apart. Thanking his luck that it hadn't rebounded, Harry grabbed onto the closest Auror. Both were clutching their faces where metal had lashed them. Using the one he held to regain his balance, Harry then pushed him into the other, seizing his wand as he let go.

Dimly Harry registered that Fudge had his wand out, but with a quickly muttered spell, that was taken care of and Fudge was thrown across the room. Turning the wand on himself, Harry forced a minor healing spell through his body, knowing that was the best he could safely do.

Glancing around, Harry shook his head to clear it, and rubbed blood from his eyes. He attempted to Disapparate, but wasn't really surprised when it didn't work. Pulling a face, he made his way out of the cell to the room's door. Turning and binding the three other wizards, Harry then walked out, the wand held at ready.

He found himself in a bright hallway, though he wasn't sure where the light was coming from. It was clearly empty, and had a feeling of disuse. Walking down the passage, Harry realized that it had no other doors leading off from it except the one he had come from and one he saw at the other end.

Making his way toward that door, he was careful to sense for any magical signatures or any sounds that were coming near it. Pausing at the door, Harry listened for a moment more, and hearing nothing, slit it open and slid through.

Harry stepped into another hallway, a wider and shorter one than the last. This had several doors along it, all of which had the same sign announcing that no one was to enter except at risk of death. Not feeling in the mood to explore, Harry quickly looked for the door that was the way out.

Halfway down the corridor, he heard footsteps and shouts coming from the hall he'd just exited. Groaning, he realized that either he hadn't bound Fudge and the others properly, or someone else had entered another way and released them.

Having nowhere to run, Harry leaned into an alcove of a door and prepared to face the Minister and his lackeys. Just as they ran into the hallway, a door on the other side of the passage burst open, and several people stormed in.

* * *

A/N: Don't attempt to kill me. Next update will be this week.

Now, I need to address the Half-Blood Prince issues. I finished days ago, of course, and have been thinking about it ever since. Pretty much constantly. As cool as it was to have well, you know who, (not You-Know-Who) as the Prince, I am so angry with what happened at the end, and who did what. Frankly, I already have theories on how it was all planned . . . or something. Anything. Okay, enough desperation.

My story will continue how I had planned it, as it is already AU, but some things from HBP will possibly be thrown in. I was brainstorming with my friend Rini, and we came up with a few ideas that might even make Betrayal better than I'd planned.

The Half-Blood Prince will continue to be depicted as I see him.

So, in conclusion, some spoilers might/will pop up, so be warned.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
Zenn

PS- Thanks to Prongs Rini for the idea to have the Dementor breed in the cell.


	23. Casus

Chapter Twenty Three- Occurrences

_Just as the Minister and his men ran into the hallway, a door on the other side of the passage burst open, and several people stormed in._

For a moment, silence reigned as Harry stared at the new arrivals. Albus Dumbledore stood just inside the hall, his gaze scanning around for Harry, as Snape stepped in beside the older wizard. Another door opened further down the corridor, admitting Sirius and Remus. The two men looked slightly startled at seeing the Ministry officials, two standing with wands out, shocked expressions covering the faces of all three.

Finally, a thoroughly dishevelled Fudge shook his head, his wand ready, though shaking in his hand. "What are you doing here, Dumbledore! With your wand out, _are you threatening me_?"

"Minister Fudge, I have merely come to retrieve one of my students," replied Albus, his voice calm, yet steely. "Harry, why don't you come here?"

"Now see here, Dumbledore!" Fudge exclaimed, brandishing his wand. "How dare you have the audacity to barge in on Ministry business! I demand you leave at once!"

Without a word, Albus easily disarmed Fudge and his man. "You, Cornelius, are out of line. You will be hard pressed to keep out of Azkaban after this."

"Azkaban!" Fudge blustered, wide-eyed and looking nervous at the loss of his wand. "Why in the world . . . never did anything, how could you say . . ."

"I do believe kidnapping is a punishable crime," said Albus, handing the Minister's and the Auror's wands to Snape, who took them without a word.

Fudge shook his head, attempting a smile that came out as more of a grimace. "Kidnapping? Albus, how could you say such a thing? I only brought Mr Potter where we could talk without interruptions. He came willingly."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, raising his brow. He glanced past Fudge. "Harry?"

Harry pushed away from the door frame, containing a wince at the movement. Keeping a fair distance from Fudge and the Aurors, he walked past them to the professors. He still held his borrowed wand in his hand, ready if needed. Luckily, the Ministry wizards were effectively cowed by Dumbledore's angry presence and they stayed still.

Albus' eyes narrowed as he looked over Harry's condition, and Sirius rushed up to the younger wizard. The Animagus grabbed Harry's arms in both hands, looking him over in quite the parental fashion. Harry wasn't sure whether to be annoyed or not.

"Harry, oh Merlin," Sirius burst out through clenched teeth. "What did that bastard do to you? Are you all right? I'm going to kill Fudge, I swear it."

"Sirius," said Harry, pulling his arms from his godfather's overenthusiastic grip. "I'll be fine. It's not terribly bad." A grimace when he moved his arm disagreed with him. _But I've had worse_.

Harry took a step back as he glanced toward Fudge, his eyes narrowed, though not all of his anger was directed toward the Minister. When Fudge looked nervous, Harry realized he was fingering the wand he held in a rather intimidating manner, and he had to smirk slightly. He almost wished that the others had taken a little longer to show up, which would have given him time to get back at his attackers.

Feeling that the others were staring at him, Harry glanced at Dumbledore, who looked amused with him, then to Snape's fathomless face. The Potions master looked at him for another minute, then turned to look down the hall. Harry watched him, then forced a small smile onto his face as he faced Sirius again. Remus had joined the Animagus, and it was clear that he could smell exactly how much blood Harry had all over him.

To stem the tirade both of them looked likely to start, Harry turned back to Dumbledore, gesturing down the hall. "This is one of those Aurors' wands. I'm not sure where mine is."

Some of his displeasure at that must have shown through as he handed the headmaster the wand, because Dumbledore's eyes regained a bit of their usual twinkle. "Thank you, Harry. Here is yours."

Harry raised a brow with a smile as he took his own back. He suddenly felt, if not well, at least much less disconcerted.

"Albus, we should get Harry to the hospital wing," Lupin stated. "Sirius and I will take him."

"Thank you, Remus," replied Albus, his eyes going cold as he turned to Fudge. "I will deal with our Minister. Severus, please accompany them, if you would?"

Snape looked like he wished to remain with the headmaster, but he nodded after a beat. He offered Dumbledore the seized wands, their handles pointed toward the headmaster. Glancing back toward the Minister, Snape then pivoted around and stalked out the door he'd come from.

"Come on, Harry," Remus said, gently guiding both his student and partner after Snape. Sirius seemed more reluctant to leave than Snape, as he cast Fudge an evil look. "We'll have to Floo to Hogwarts."

Though wishing to know what Dumbledore was going to do with the Minister, Harry knew it would just be too much trouble, and he was just plain tired. He knew the headmaster would explain later. Most likely. But Harry walked out, he did catch a very amusing glimpse of Dumbledore spelling ropes around Fudge and the Aurors, pulling them into each other and toppling them over. Harry silently applauded.

It didn't take overly long to reach the public fireplaces, as Harry found that Fudge had held him in a unused section of the Ministry very near the lifts. As they were following Snape's quick pace, they reached Hogwarts and the hospital wing in record time. Harry was unusually glad, as he could feel that the healing charm he had applied was not nearly enough, and the Floo travel hadn't helped anything.

Madame Pomfrey strode out of her office at Sirius' call, and Remus nudged Harry toward her. "What is it– Mr Potter. Why am I not surprised? Are you trying to set a record?"

"Of course, Madame," Harry responded smoothly, though his hand was holding a painful stitch in his right side. "I have two years to catch up on."

Snape snorted, but otherwise ignored the other wizards. "Madame Pomfrey, are there any extra potions you are going to need to deal with Potter?"

"Well, I wouldn't know yet, now would I, Severus?" Pomfrey said, herding Harry toward a bed. "If you would be patient."

Harry had to stifle a snicker at the glare that received from Snape. In the next moment, he found himself behind a curtain with the express orders to disrobe and lay down while she went for supplies. Pomfrey had offered to assist, but Harry wasn't quite willing to appear that disabled. It took much moving of pained parts of his body, even with the assistance of some wandless spells, but he'd managed by the time she had returned.

"Goodness, Mr Potter, what have you been doing this time?" Pomfrey asked, shaking her head and running her wand across his body.

Not bothering to give an answer, not that it really seemed she wanted one, Harry let the Mediwitch examine him. He heard the murmur of voices outside the door of the hospital, and realized that Pomfrey must have banished Sirius and Remus to the outside hall. Glad that he wouldn't be expected to explain anything, including how he had gotten an Auror's wand, Harry closed his eyes.

He felt Pomfrey cast a cleaning charm, clearing the area of his wounds, then a healing charm settled over them. It was much stronger than what he'd been able to put on himself, and Harry let out a soft breath at the relief. He may be experienced in pain, but he usually didn't consider himself a masochist. When Pomfrey tutted, Harry blinked up at her.

"Severus," Pomfrey called out, glancing past the curtains surrounding the bed. "I'm going to need a vial of Organ-Healer. And quite a bit of Bruising Salve and that strong pain reliever you make."

"_Medicamenti_," Snape informed her, stepping around the curtains. "Didn't I just refill your stock of both that and the Salve at the beginning of the term?"

Pomfrey waved her left hand at him. "Never mind that. Would you just see to it?"

"Of course. And I'll be sure to provide extra." Snape glared at Harry as he turned away. "As you seem to run through it so very quickly."

* * *

Harry had barely fallen asleep after the Mediwitch finished with him when Dumbledore strode into the infirmary. Having not felt comfortable taking a sedative, not with Riddle looking to exploit his sleep, Harry woke immediately, his wand in his hand before he opened his eyes. Having fallen into a dream regarding everything the Dementors had dragged up, he was very on edge. A chuckle from the headmaster made him alert him to the visitor, and Harry looked over with an apologetic smile. 

"I assure you I mean no harm," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling as he walked up to Harry's bedside.

"I was actually expecting an overbearing Mediwitch," Harry explained. "Or perhaps a suffocating godfather."

"Well, I can honestly say I'm neither," stated Albus, laughing lightly. "Now, how are you, my boy?"

"Better than I was," Harry replied.

"Excellent. Well, I imagine you're interested in what happened after you were ushered out of there," Albus said. At Harry's nod, he continued. "Frankly, I was shocked by Cornelius' actions, Harry. I never thought he would go quite so low. Few people are going to want to believe it, but we have plenty of evidence. The main deterrents in having him relieved of his Ministry duties and put on trial are his many connections. Luckily, I do believe that my own will manage to balance the scale.

"Unfortunately, bureaucracy moves slowly. I will do all I am able to speed up the process. I already have the Minister and his friends in holding by a few people I trust."

"Order members, I suppose,Headmaster?"

"Of course."

* * *

It wasn't until a couple of uneventful weeks passed that Harry heard anything more about the Minister. He had explained everything to Hermione and Ginny, who'd been more than upset at the entire thing. Ginny had passed it on to Neville, and according to him, it was as much Snape's fault for leaving him as Fudge's for taking him. Harry knew a little more about politic relations, and didn't quite hold as much anger towards the Potions master, though it surprised him when he realized that. 

On Saturday, Harry was up before the school, training in his little forest alcove. He'd repaired most of the damage he'd inflicted with his loss of control, and thus far, hadn't destroyed it again. It was starting to become habit to come out in the morning, and as the injuries from the Ministry had completely healed, Harry had gotten into the same routine he'd done before dawn in the other realm. It felt natural, more than how he had to act in the school, and Harry enjoyed being away from everyone sometimes.

It was while working on his stance with his battle staff that his wards had alerted him to an intruder. Spinning the pole so he had a two-handed grip on it, Harry pivoted around. Upon seeing who it was, he raised an eyebrow and lowered the weapon.

"Good morning, my boy," Albus greeted jovially as Harry allowed the headmaster access to the alcove. "Well, this certainly looks a lot more green than the last time I saw it."

"Hello, Headmaster," replied Harry with a grin, propping the staff against the nearest tree. "What can I do for you?"

Dumbledore turned toward him. "Actually, I had a little more information regarding the Minister. I thought you might be interested, and as I wasn't busy, well . . ."

Harry nodded. "Great. What's going on?"

His eyes doing their normal twinkling, Albus merely pulled out a thick parchment from his robes. As he handed it over, Harry saw the headline.

**Minister of Magic accused of abduction, assault of Boy-Who-Lived!**

_Cornelius Fudge, a supposedly distinguished model of proper wizardry, has fallen far, _writes Rita Skeeter, Head Correspondent_. Not long after having been found disturbingly wrong regarding the much publicized 'death' of Harry Potter, Fudge has found a way to destroy his image further. Just two weeks ago, the current Minister walked into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, against the wishes of the honourable Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, and seized young Potter right in front of several eye-witnesses, states a source close to the case._

_Following this, the much abused Potter was taken to a dilapidated section of the Ministry, an area feared to collapse, where Fudge locked him in a cell with several Dementors, who are now considered illegal creatures. According to a psychiatrist from St Mungos Hospital, it is not expected that young Potter could ever fully recover from such an ordeal. Then, to make it worse, the Minister, a man who is chosen to protect our people, sent a horde of private Unspeakables into the cell to beat and curse Potter._

_The Daily Prophet, as your best and most reliable source of wizarding news, is calling for the impeachment of the Minister. Cornelius Fudge has gone too far this time. First he doesn't acknowledge the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, even when the greatest voices are insisting, now he turns to common brutality and child abuse. (See pages 5, 7, and 8 for other grievances against Fudge.) Take a stand, now! (See page 4 for a list of new Minister candidates, as chosen by _Rita Skeeter, Head Correspondent

Harry had to reread the article, as it was difficult to see while trying to stave off his laughter. "This is ridiculous. Skeeter is Head Reporter? Myrddin. They're right, Fudge needs to get kicked out, but this is . . ."

"The most truthful article written in the last, what, three years?" Albus answered mildly.

"Oh, yes," Harry replied, shaking his head. "Several witnesses? Other than Hogwarts, I don't remember anyone there. And Unspeakables, what in the world? Not to mention they've implied that I've gone mad, and am considerably younger than seventeen."

"Perhaps, but what can you do?" Albus asked. Gesturing toward the ever brightening sky, he then said, "Perhaps we should return to the school. I believe that today is the first Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor vs Slytherin. I seem to have heard that you've been asked to commentate?"

Harry looked at Dumbledore, stifling a grimace. He'd refused to return as Seeker, much to Ginny's displeasure, as she'd been hoping to play Chaser. Still, he turned it down, citing the fact that he had to make sure he stayed up with his classes. In truth, though he missed the sport, it just seemed too far removed from him. A different life.

Forcing away his darker thoughts, Harry nodded. "Yeah, though conned into it is more correct."

"You may find yourself loving it," Dumbledore stated, making his way to the alcove's exit. "I'll see you at the Pitch, my boy. Good luck."

As the headmaster walked away, Harry shook his head. Glancing back down at the paper he still held, he snickered, then banished it. He quickly transfigured his training outfit into some Muggle trousers and a jumper, secured his weapons in a hidden truck, and made his own way back to the school.

* * *

A/N: Well, that was a faster update than usual. I know it may not be the most exciting chapter, but frankly, I agree with some of my reviewers, Harry needed a bit of a break. He won't have time after this. ;) 

Now, I'm not certain whether I should include the Quidditch match or just gloss over it. Any thoughts? I'll probably decide from popular opinion. And Fudge will get more of what's coming to him, so don't worry, though it won't be until nearer the end of the story.

Thanks to everyone who stuck with me, reviewers _and_ readers, even though it's been so long. Things are picking up, and I am more able to write more often, now. Everyone's reviews help, and definitely improve my mood, especially when things in Real Life get bad. Thank you.

Best Regards and Pleasure Reading,  
Zenn

PS- A shout out to those who put me on C2 lists. It's quite flattering. Thanks.


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